tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525387420074052162018-03-05T16:14:55.937-08:00The Hopeful WandererPreferred modes of wandering: run, hike, snow shoeAllisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-24485015241957523032016-04-27T15:40:00.000-07:002016-04-27T15:40:27.700-07:00Cheyenne Mt 50kI want to kick off this race summary by addressing something for regular readers of this blog. I haven't posted anything here in a long time. It's not that I haven't written anything; it's just that I haven't posted it. Lately I've gotten a little bit uncomfortable with posting things. I'm thankful for how supportive most readers have been but I think for the time being I'll probably just be posting race summaries. I feel more inclined to just post things that feel like they have substance and importance and I'll think I'll keep the rest of the stuff to myself.<br /><br />Now on to this crazy racing adventure! Back on the 16th I was planning to run the Rattler 50k in Palmer Park in Colorado Springs, but as things work in Colorado, we can go from 70 degrees and sunny to 20 degrees and snowing. The forecast for race day was freezing temps, snow, and 40mph winds. The Ricks family of Mad Moose Events had been optimistic about race weekend and did all of the work to prep for the race, but when race morning came things were even worse than the weather had forecasted. Runners are crazy enough to show up in the snow but a lot of the volunteers weren't able to make it. They made the tough decision to cancel the race. Fortunately they were able to work it out so that we could jump into the Cheyenne Mt. 50k the following weekend where the forecast called for 70 degrees and sun.<br /><br />Going into the race, I had serious doubts about whether I could finish the race. This has been a tough Spring. I feel like I have been sick all of the time and as soon as I get better I catch something else. The emotion that I feel most frequently has been apathy and with all of the snow lately, it's been hard to remember that soon we will be able to explore the high country again. The week before the race I was fighting off a virus and had to take walk breaks on downhills during super slow five mile shakeout runs. I'll come clean. I did a 5.5 mile run on roads and it took an hour. How the hell was I going to finish a 50k?<br /><br />Going into race day, I was pretty determined to finish no matter how long it took. Even if the race was packed up and everyone went home, I was going to finish. The Bighorn 100 is in two months and if I didn't finish this race, I knew it would mess with my head. Fortunately I knew there would be a lot of great friends out on the course to keep a smile on my face during the race. After chatting with a lot of those amazing people before the race, my goal for the day was to have the most fun possible.<br /><br />My friend, Kery, started off with me. She is super speedy but is relatively new to ultra-running and she was determined to start slow, be consistent, and finish strong. The first few miles were a blur but I was glad to have her there ahead of me. Soon the course looped around and we had people passing us from behind as the speedy 25k runners who started 30 minutes after us caught us and tons of 10k runners were coming straight at us. It was at this moment that my body told me that I needed to go the bathroom and that it wasn't going to wait. I told Kery that she could go on because, "I needed to go to the bathroom and that it might take a while." Instead of leaving me, Kery stood on the side of the trail and waited for me. It was nice to know that someone was keeping guard;)<br /><br />Eventually Kery did have to leave me. I felt like I was running out of steam and every time I had a coughing fit I felt like I was going to throw up. I think it was near mile 8 or 9 that we started the longer climb of the course. I figured, this was it, I was going to have to walk it in from here. Fortunately I met a new friend, Tonia Smith. I'm definitely an introvert, but sometimes you meet people and they just make you feel energized. I really appreciated the conversation we had and before I knew it she was like, "Do you want to start jogging?" and we did. And then we walked and then we ran. That continued for a while and I started to feel better and more confident that I was going to finish this race.<br /><br />Around mile 17 I was running low on water and I knew there was still 2 or 3 miles to the aid station. I had to leave Tonia but I was sure she would catch me. After getting to the aid station at mile 19.5 I felt really good. There was still more extended bathroom breaks and some walk breaks, but overall it felt like a heavy weight was lifting off of my back. I passed a few people and nobody passed me back. The people at the last aid station were awesome and kept my energy up and before I knew it, the finish line was in sight!<br /><br />Overall I was pretty happy about the day. I had the maximum levels of fun that you can have at a 50k and I got to see a lot of friends out on the course. It made me excited for the season ahead and for that I am extremely grateful. Thank you to the Ricks family for giving us an opportunity to do this race and also to the RDs of Cheyenne Mt Trail Races for making us feel so welcome. And I'm so lucky to be part of this awesome Runner's Roost community that honestly feels like family. Congrats to my smokin' fast husband who snagged fourth place in the 50k!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-h3bn40AzY/VyE9i6KRfQI/AAAAAAAACkk/TXcQ8YMlxroZHrTK3P-ImIADLAH2MYQ-ACLcB/s1600/Cheyenne%2BMt%2Bfinish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-h3bn40AzY/VyE9i6KRfQI/AAAAAAAACkk/TXcQ8YMlxroZHrTK3P-ImIADLAH2MYQ-ACLcB/s320/Cheyenne%2BMt%2Bfinish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kery and I sprinting it in to the finish!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">photo by Grace Krause</span></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-84185492459103102182015-11-17T13:56:00.000-08:002015-11-17T14:14:49.617-08:00What I Wish People Knew About Runners With Eating DisordersI tried to write this post over two years ago. I regurgitated my personal eating disorder story onto the page (ironic, I know) and let it sit on Blogger as a "draft." I have reread it from time to time and I don't think I will ever post it. It's cringeworthy and I decided that no matter how many times I edit it and no matter how many ways I try to explain myself, you can't get people to fully understand what it's like to have a mental health issue. Even when I meet other people with eating disorders, I can never fully understand their story because "unhealth" plays out differently for everyone.<br /><br />So why am I writing now? Recently iRunFar published an article written by the Trail Sisters called <a href="http://www.irunfar.com/2015/11/weight-and-the-accompanying-head-games.html" target="_blank">Weight and the Accompanying Head Games</a>. I think the authors were well meaning but as I read it, a pit began to grow in my stomach. I made sure to eat a snack but the pit was still there. I read the comments section and felt physically ill. How do so many runners misunderstand eating disorders and why are the majority of people so tactless while discussing it? I knew it was time to write.<br /><br />The Trail Sisters article was not the first I read that hit a nerve. I remember reading an Anna Frost profile back in 2012 published by Trail Runner Magazine written by Rickey Gates. You can read it <a href="http://trailrunnermag.com/component/content/article/333-fierceness" target="_blank">here</a>. The way Anna talked about her weight loss patterns before races really bothered me. She knew it was unhealthy but it was reported so nonchalantly. At the time, I was just beginning to discover what it felt like to be healthy and the way it was reported made me feel like her unhealthy eating habits were acceptable, maybe even expected, if you wanted to compete at a high level. Since then, I have read other articles and books that touched on how weight affects runners and as a person who has struggled with eating disorders I always feel so misunderstood.<br /><br />I don't like to tell my story because people in my life seem to blame themselves for not noticing sooner, but so that you can know where I'm coming from, here's one paragraph of my history. I ran cross country 7th-9th grade and quit after my Freshman year because I would get panic attacks before and during races. I became anorexic during my Sophomore year and I found that it gave me a feeling of control that I couldn't find anywhere else. I stopped getting my period and the doctor should have diagnosed me but instead just told me to gain weight. Due to my low weight, my body did not produce the hormones to develop a healthy bone density and I will probably always have pre-osteoporosis (osteopenea). Sometime during my Junior or Senior year I started a new habit. I would starve myself during the day because I felt self-conscious eating around others but when I was home alone I would find things to binge eat. This pattern of starve and binge continued through my Freshman year of college and after spending the summers in Colorado working at a youth camp, I started to develop healthy eating habits. After spending a lot of time backpacking and trail running, I finally view food as energy that allows me to go on great adventures.<br /><br />Now I will get to the point. Here are the things I wish people knew about runners who have had eating disorders.<br /><br /><b><i>You can't just look at a group of runners and know who has an eating disorder.</i> </b>I have heard a lot of people say something like, "I was at the starting line and there was this skinny bitch next to me and I just knew she was anorexic." First of all, being anorexic is NOT an advantage. If she was really starving herself than she would not have the energy to compete at her highest level. There are skinny girls who don't have an eating disorder and there are girls who appear to be a normal weight but if you observe their relationship with food, you will see they have a disorder. When I hear someone say, "Oh she's a good runner but did you know she has an eating disorder?" I always want to respond by saying, "You sound jealous. You don't seem very happy with yourself or your abilities. Why don't we focus on solving that."<br /><br /><b><i>Please be sensitive about the way you talk about food and weight</i>.</b>&nbsp;The hard thing is, you might not know that your running buddy has a past with eating disorders. I have a friend who does not have an eating disorder who has made comments about how if people ask you if you are eating enough, then you are at your ideal race weight. On another occasion, when I mentioned how I couldn't wear waist packs because they don't stay on my hips, a friend mentioned how they worked fine for his girlfriend because she was so skinny. I wanted to correct him and say that it was because she doesn't have hips or a waist, but I took a deep breath and let it go. We know you are well meaning but it's hard to forget your words.<br /><br /><b><i>When you talk to us about "Race Weight" it's like describing your delicious craft beer to an alcoholic</i>.</b>&nbsp;Yes, I read Matt Fitzgerald's book and it was informative. Yes, I know the statistics about how losing x pounds makes you x seconds faster per mile. I can never be the person who follows a rigid nutrition and exercise plan. The problem is that it is addictive and gives me so much control that I will obsessively adhere to it until the point where well, to be honest, I kill myself. There was once a time where every day I would weigh myself, take my blood pressure, do a body fat analysis, record my exercise and hours of sleep, and then at the end of every week I would average it and at the end of every month I would average the weekly averages... you see where this is going, right? No matter what works for you, the alcoholic is not going to sit at the bar with you and enjoy just one beer. I know you love your coach, or your training plan, or this new book that is helping you lose fat and build muscle, but excuse me while I listen to my heart and go chase butterflies through mountain meadows. It's taking all of my self will, not to fall back into my addictive patterns.<br /><br /><b><i>We are never really "cured."</i> </b>I read this really awesome article by Ashley Arnold in Trail Runner Magazine and you can read it <a href="http://www.trailrunnermag.com/people/profiles/article/1628-no-room-for-shame" target="_blank">here</a>. Towards the very end of the article she quotes Diane Israel who is referencing an idea from Carl Jung that instead of pursuing a cure we are just on a journey. I like that idea because as much as I'd like to think that I am healed and would never relapse, I have to just be thankful for the place I'm at right now and trust that if I went back to my old ways, then I would have friends and family who would get me the help I need. If we pursue being healthy then there are steps forward and sometimes there are steps back, but we are still going somewhere. We don't need people to hyper-vigilantly watch what we eat, but please ask us if there are ways you can help or habits you can watch out for.<br /><br /><b><i>It's not about the number on the scale or the image in the mirror, it's about our self-worth and the control we gain through our relationship with food</i>.</b>&nbsp;There are a lot of different types of eating disorders and I won't pretend that everyone has the same motivations. I think people who are attracted to ultra-running are intense, highly self-motivated, and prone to obsessiveness and as a result, ultra-runners who have had eating disorders have similar themes in their stories. When someone says, "I think you look good the way you are. People look better with a little meat on their bones, " I appreciate that, really I do. But honestly I don't care what you think is attractive. I'm not looking for praise or a self-esteem boost. When I was at my worst, I wrote repeatedly in my journal about how if my life continued the way it was going, I would rather be dead. I felt like I had no control over anything and I was full of self-loathing. My eating disorder felt like a temporary solution to all of that. It was like a razor blade to a cutter: I finally had control over something and I could slowly kill myself with it. If your significant other has an eating disorder or you have a friend with an eating disorder, you can tell them you think they are pretty the way they are or prettier with more meat on their bones and they won't care. At the end of the day they have to deal with their own self-hate.<br /><br /><b><i>Don't tell us that we can't run</i>.</b>&nbsp;I've read opinions from a variety of nutritionists and sports doctors and there seems to be a prevailing thought that if you've had an eating disorder then running will become destructive to you. While I recognize that they may have had clients who could not go about training in a healthy way, that is not true for everyone. I like to believe that if I can approach training for ultra-marathons in a healthy way, then I will learn principles that allow me to approach eating in a healthy way. Through running and backpacking, the way I thought about food was revolutionized. I don't even feel like the same person anymore. Training allows me to feel an aspect of control but teaches me that if I have to miss a day due to weather or illness, I'm not suddenly a worthless person. Achieving the goals that I set while training keeps me from feeling the self-loathing on a regular basis. When I don't achieve a goal, instead of turning against myself, I'm challenged to re-examine how I define my self worth. Please don't take running away from me.<br /><br />In conclusion, a lot of people are self-conscious about their weight. I think the reason why the Trail Sisters article bothers me so much is that I hear Gina and Pam saying, "Even though I hate feeling like a giant, I'll love my body in spite of that because I can power up mountains." And I hear Liza saying, "Even though I'm petite and tiny, I still don't always like the way I look." At the end of the article all I've heard is "I hate my body the way it is." That makes me so sad! Whether or not these ladies have struggled with eating disorders, I don't think that your self-worth should be based on a comparison to other women. The ideologies of "I'm bigger therefore I'm more powerful" or "I'm tinier therefore I can fly" are both slippery slopes to self-destruction. I prefer the same ideas without the comparisons. I'm powerful. I can fly.<br /><br />P.S. If you want to read a blog post that will make you smile, read Emelie Forsberg's ideas <a href="http://www.emelieforsberg.com/body-relationships/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vtptOsuP_9c/U53VY4vaiAI/AAAAAAAABV4/M99BeaoIJYk/s1600/finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vtptOsuP_9c/U53VY4vaiAI/AAAAAAAABV4/M99BeaoIJYk/s320/finish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm powerful. I can fly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(photo by Phil Snyder)</span></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-68394168610977680282015-11-03T09:32:00.001-08:002015-11-03T09:32:37.155-08:00Hixon 50k Race ReportAbout a month ago, my dad sent me this text, "Jake Hegge, married to Becka Miller is the RD for the first Hixon 25/50k. He just won the Superior 100 with a course record of 19:30. Come home and run it with me." Not usually one to say no to a race, I started to think about how I could possibly make it work. I was already scheduled to work that whole weekend, but after a lot of schedule shuffling at work I was able to get just a few short days off to travel back to Wisconsin. I didn't know this Jake and Becka that my dad mentioned but when someone from your hometown puts on a ultra-marathon, you show up and support it.<br /><br />When talking about the race my parents kept referring to me as "the girl who was going to win it," but I found that highly unlikely. I knew the course was going to be hilly but more runnable than I was used to. I thought for sure there would be some fast road marathoner who could win it. All of my training this summer has been for Skyrunning races or for long adventures in the backcountry. I have no speed in these legs of mine and I think I was more apprehensive about this race course than for a race like the Rut or San Juan Solstice.<br /><br />Throughout the weekend multiple people wanted a comparison of the bluffs of La Crosse to the mountains of Colorado. As far as Wisconsin is concerned, La Crosse is certainly hilly, but the terrain isn't easily comparable. Here are some numbers to compare: At the end of the Hixon 50k we had the biggest climb of the race coming in at ~500 feet of gain; at the end of the Ouray 100 mile race Cory had a climb with ~5,000 feet of gain. The climbs in Colorado are much longer and steeper which give the runner a mental and physical break from running. I haven't done a race in Colorado where I didn't take a sustained walk break. The Hixon 50k felt really difficult because even though it was hilly, I never got to take that walk break I was looking forward to. A runnable course is difficult in it's own way.<br /><br />Before I get into the details of the race, it's important to describe two key things about people from the upper Midwest, things that were only glaringly obvious to me after spending so much time away. First of all, people are generally polite to a fault even if it comes at their own expense. &nbsp;Secondly, people are bad at dealing with conflict and when forced, people will handle it as passive aggressively as possible.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hepdjH43OuQ/Vjjrza-W5xI/AAAAAAAACc8/cONXFF37bK4/s1600/IMG_9227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hepdjH43OuQ/Vjjrza-W5xI/AAAAAAAACc8/cONXFF37bK4/s320/IMG_9227.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise!</div><br />Alright, onto the race. A good group formed at the race start and it was obvious that a lot of people knew each other. It's exciting to see such a strong ultra community in Wisconsin. The start of the race was relaxed and unceremonious and people seemed tentative to take any sort of lead. I hate leading and somehow, even though I was determined to start conservatively with my dad, I was the first girl to hop onto the single track that wound through the woods in upper Hixon. I didn't mean to but everyone was so polite about letting other people onto the single track that no one wanted to lead the train. Dad stuck close behind me, breathing like a freight train, and I just felt bad. I felt bad that I was making dad go out to fast, I felt bad that there was a train of super speedy guys trapped behind me, and my heart sank as I realized that I was not going to enjoy these first three miles of the race. One spectator cheered, "Isn't pack running the best!?" and it took all of my resolve not to say, "F*** you. Nobody thinks that right now!"<br /><br />I contemplated letting the guys pass, but at the end of the train I could see two girls and you can't just let only guys pass. After a mile or two, dad said he was going to have to drop back and I was hoping some of the guys would use the wide corners as an opportunity to pass. I hugged the side of the trail and hollered back that they could pass if they wanted to but the guy behind me said that he was happy with the pace. Finally as we neared the end of the three mile loop some guys shot by me and eventually a girl caught up to me (her name was Kim). She looked strong and experienced and passed me with ease as we ran through the first aid station.<br /><br />Next up we had four more miles of winding and rolling single track. I dialed it back and realized I needed to do a better job of taking care of myself. My quads were already on fire and I felt way more extended than I should have. I let another girl pass (Jennifer) and she looked like she wasn't even trying. She seemed to be falling a lot but it looked like she was having fun playing in the woods. It was time to work on my mental state. I was tired and not enjoying myself and that's not the way to start a race. I talked to some guys around me and met a nice guy named Dave and another guy named Al who had lived in Pittsburgh for a few years. Reminiscing about Pittsburgh took my mind off of the race and as we ran through the next aid station and descended into the Quarry section, I felt my mind hitting reset on the day.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--bxsS42Dcaw/VjjsvTi2_vI/AAAAAAAACdE/nuQZBuhAzS4/s1600/IMG_9229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--bxsS42Dcaw/VjjsvTi2_vI/AAAAAAAACdE/nuQZBuhAzS4/s320/IMG_9229.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shortly after the Quarry aid station</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tEzjzfFdyDU/Vjjs2S-L4AI/AAAAAAAACdM/fl-OIvcSs-g/s1600/IMG_9231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tEzjzfFdyDU/Vjjs2S-L4AI/AAAAAAAACdM/fl-OIvcSs-g/s320/IMG_9231.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">At the bottom of the Quarry</div><br />I tried to keep up with Al as we hit a short road section and began the out and back loop to the Miller Bluff aid station. There was a woman not far behind us and I wanted to keep a comfortable lead on her. She caught us at the aid station since I stopped for water for the first time, but I gained on her on the downhills. As we bottomed out at the lower Hixon aid station, I was getting excited for the big climb that I had heard so much about. We did another rolling loop and the climb began. I could see the woman a switchback behind me and was impressed by her uphill ability. I thought we were only halfway done when a spectator told me that we were almost at the top. I hadn't gotten to take my walk break yet!<br /><br />I felt a little cranky as we finished the loop and came into the start/finish aid station at mile 15.5. I was hoping to build more of a lead on the woman during the climb. My mom gave me some Tailwind and I stopped for water at the aid station. That allowed the woman to catch up to me. As we hit the single track section again we talked briefly and I started to pull ahead. She stayed within one or two switchbacks of me for the next three miles and I determinedly caught back up to Al. Just before the aid station, I caught Al and tried to encourage him since he seemed like he was hitting a rough patch but was determined to put a gap on the woman behind me in the next section.<br /><br />I ran through the aid station at mile 18.7 and was feeling great. I felt strangely emotional and overwhelmed with happiness at how beautiful the course was and how perfect the weather was. I cruised through the next few miles and the woman behind me was no where in sight. Due to the nature of this winding single-track section, I was able to see Al's bright shirt a ways back but was relieved to know that I had put a sizable lead on the woman. I stopped for a few seconds at the Quarry aid station at mile 22.7 for a water refill and pushed on through the fast, flat section ahead.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VTMLwPZa3Bo/VjjtiPB_qcI/AAAAAAAACdU/FlYR-E-jh4w/s1600/IMG_9232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VTMLwPZa3Bo/VjjtiPB_qcI/AAAAAAAACdU/FlYR-E-jh4w/s320/IMG_9232.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Glorious single track</div><br />During this time, only one guy passed me on the road section and he was flying. Later he told me that this was his first trail race and the roads were just more comfortable for him. As I began the out and back loop to Miller Bluff I saw Kim, who I thought was in first, and I estimated she had 10 minutes on me. I thought Jennifer was between us so I started speeding up trying to catch her. I blew through the aid station, ran up the hill, ran up the road section, and picked up my speed as a hit the long downhill to the Lower Hixon aid station.<br /><br />I passed a guy who was walking and then I excitedly caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a girl in front of me. I excitedly thought that maybe I could get second place. I quickly caught up as she was moving quite slowly and was furious when I saw who it was. It was the woman who I had fought so hard to put a gap on at mile 18. I usually try to give people the benefit of the doubt and I contemplated not mentioning this part of the race but it still bothers me so much. This was the best-marked course I have ever run so it seemed unlikely that anyone could get lost. As I came alongside her, I asked in typical passive-aggressive Wisconsin form, "When did you pass me? I thought you were behind me?" Her response was simple, "Oh, I don't remember when I passed you." I was enraged. I was 100% percent sure that she did not pass me because I never even stepped off the course to pee.<br /><br />I was so mad that as I ran by her, I told her that she should probably not continue since she had cut the course. I was mad at myself for being mad. I blew through the Lower Hixon aid station at mile 28.4 determined to not let her even get near to me. I turned over all of the possible scenarios in my head of how, where, and why, she could have cut the course. Maybe she got lost and didn't mean to. She had rolled her ankle, so maybe she had cut the course to get to an aid station faster. Surely she wouldn't finish the race since she had not run the whole route. I still don't know what her story is because I couldn't bring myself to talk to her after the race. Even though I still beat her, I was so angry and Wisconsin people are non-confrontational. Again, I really want to give her the benefit of the doubt because, though cutting this course would be easy, there really was no incentive to.<br /><br />I was happy to finish in third place behind, who I learned were, two very respectable competitors. I talked to Kim, the woman who had passed me at the first aid station and ended up getting second, and found out that she used to work at a camp in Colorado and that she and her husband had lived in Montana before moving to Duluth, MN. She told me that she used to race a lot and had done Western States and Hardrock. What she didn't tell me was that she had actually been top 10 twice at Western and had finished in 4th at Hardrock. As her kids got older, racing became a less prominent part of her life and this was her first ultra in a while. I wish I also could have talked more to the winner, Jennifer, who seemed awesome and I heard she is also a mom. It's always so encouraging to hear about women who can balance being a mom with being a bad ass runner.<br /><br />At the end of the day, it was probably the best first-year event that I have ever been at. Jake, Tyler, and Michael put on a flawless race and they had an incredible crew of volunteers. I'm so thankful I got to participate in this event and experience the amazingly gorgeous trails in La Crosse. I hope these guys have a long and successful career of racing and race directing.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnvwRELolVk/VjjvS5m8TwI/AAAAAAAACdg/byuDc6eHp0I/s1600/IMG_9238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnvwRELolVk/VjjvS5m8TwI/AAAAAAAACdg/byuDc6eHp0I/s320/IMG_9238.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07FVJUjzSfw/VjjvTA03ASI/AAAAAAAACdk/H9xxYOeNB-s/s1600/IMG_9244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07FVJUjzSfw/VjjvTA03ASI/AAAAAAAACdk/H9xxYOeNB-s/s320/IMG_9244.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-77449800899313318992015-09-16T21:14:00.000-07:002015-09-22T12:30:34.118-07:00The Rut 50kA year ago we saw some sweet videos about the Rut. You can watch them <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eK-MzieLfso" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQoS--WFRzI" target="_blank">here</a>. We kept saying to each other, "Oh some day we should do the Rut." And then I realized that "some day" doesn't happen unless you make it happen. Cory was immediately on board. It ended up being the most difficult weekend of my life, but not for the reasons you would expect.<br /><div><br /></div><div>On Thursday, we packed up the car and made it to a beautiful camp site with a great view of Grand Teton. That night we took both dogs on a little shake out run. Mayla started dragging during the fourth mile, but that was typical and it was a warm evening. After making dinner we went to bed early and sweet Mayla Heart was so snuggly. If I had known it would be our last night together I would have made it more special, but now that I look back it was nearly perfect.<br /><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20iLH_kIiKA/Vfo03iWAmfI/AAAAAAAACbQ/DnI3PVGNDeM/s1600/sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20iLH_kIiKA/Vfo03iWAmfI/AAAAAAAACbQ/DnI3PVGNDeM/s320/sunrise.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise near our tent</div><br /></div><div>The next day we drove through Grand Teton and Yellowstone and made it to Big Sky. We had some fun at packet pick up, grabbed some amazing pizza at Blue Moon Bakery, and settled in with a fire at our camp site. Everything seemed normal when we gave the dogs dinner. Shortly before we went to bed, Mayla started giving us a sad face. A few minutes later, she threw up. After getting it out of her system she seemed normal and started jumping and doing tricks for treats. We figured she had just eaten some grass.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went to bed, and again Mayla was super snuggly. She normally likes to be near us but not touching, and I kept waking up as she wiggled her way between our sleeping bags. At about 3am I woke up to the sound of her getting ready to throw up. It was different this time. She did not regain use of her limbs and could not get herself up. We started to clean her up and realized that she had lost control over all body functions. Finally we got her clean and comfortable - it had been less than 20 minutes - but she was fading and we didn't know what to do since we were 30 minutes from the nearest town in the middle of the night on a holiday weekend with no phone service.</div><div><br /></div><div>Before we could even discuss how to find a vet, she threw up again and it was done. She wasn't breathing and her body wasn't pushing out the vomit. There was a lot of screaming, sobbing, yelling, and overall denial; it was the worst few hours of my life. The sun came up and we borrowed some shovels from the campground host. My baby is buried in Gallatin National Forest.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SwfqRYqiKbg/Vfdi1e_P0dI/AAAAAAAACa4/Ivf1D8Szsg0/s1600/mayla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SwfqRYqiKbg/Vfdi1e_P0dI/AAAAAAAACa4/Ivf1D8Szsg0/s320/mayla.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My sunshine</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We thought about going straight home, but neither of us wanted to leave without her. Returning to routine would be too difficult. We also tend to deal with grief through running. By that point, Cory had missed the 25k but he took Cadi, our other pup, for a 10 miler and he got 15 miles in with her while I was running the 50k on Sunday. My heart wasn't in the race but I found myself at the starting line. Thanks to our friends, Josh and Ashley, for letting us stay at their vacation rental so we would not have to spend the night in that tent full of memories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>From here on out, this report will only be about the race.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I went back and forth about whether I should start in wave 2 or 3. Each wave was separated by 5 minutes so that the field would be more staggered once hitting single track. After wave 1 I was too antsy to wait any longer and new friend, Pat, and I suckered our friend, Clarke, into jumping into wave 2. We were off and soon we were stopped in a line waiting to climb some super sweet and steep single track in the dark. The sun came up and it was a glorious morning with Lone Peak looming above us in a cloud... What a tease.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DiIvFiGLUTo/Vfo3EQx1aGI/AAAAAAAACbc/Rq2htgwRnPs/s1600/rut1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DiIvFiGLUTo/Vfo3EQx1aGI/AAAAAAAACbc/Rq2htgwRnPs/s320/rut1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fqang-IoCqw/Vfo3HIHkU0I/AAAAAAAACbk/S7cz6UKlxVo/s1600/rut2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fqang-IoCqw/Vfo3HIHkU0I/AAAAAAAACbk/S7cz6UKlxVo/s320/rut2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since getting injured after San Juan Solstice in June, the longest run I've done was 15 miles. We had done lots of long days in the mountains with a mix of hiking and running so I felt prepared for the middle part of the course when things got technical. I was most nervous about how runnable the first part of the course was, so I was eternally grateful to Clarke who spent most of the first 11 miles with me. We talked a bit, we were quiet a bit, and mostly we just took it easy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Aid 2 I had to take my first extended potty break in the woods (3 total... ugh). As I stumbled back to the trail, my friend, Melissa Mincic, caught me. She had started in wave 3 and I was hoping she would catch up because I had lost Clark and I needed some girl time. We chatted a bit on the climb and I tucked in behind her as she ran every other switch back.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LX44AJa3blc/Vfo38CtJ9II/AAAAAAAACbs/zPbQAJNALWE/s1600/rut3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LX44AJa3blc/Vfo38CtJ9II/AAAAAAAACbs/zPbQAJNALWE/s320/rut3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Melissa ahead in white</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We started on our first technical downhill with some talus and scree and I found that it slowed other people down more than it slowed me down. You see, I do all of my technical running with Cory and he is really good at it, so I thought I was bad. It turned out to be one of my strengths. We started the climb up to Headwaters Ridge and I found myself picking off a lot of people. Just as we hit the field of "dinner plate" talus, I came up on a line of people and they were moving too slow. At that point I couldn't get around them. As we climbed they missed a small switchback and I short-cutted by them. I felt really good at the top and the views were breath-taking.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We started the downhill and I pissed off a few people when I dodged by them. Soon the talus turned into dirt and the grade became painful on the knees. I backed off the pace. There were a lot more downhills. &nbsp;Soon we began climbing again and I passed some people that looked pretty tired. I felt like a lot of people stopped eating on the technical sections and found themselves bonking when the trail got runnable again. I was so happy to see Cory and Cadi at the Swiftcurrent aid station and I loaded up on gels and water for the second half of the course.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJowS0JJ3xk/Vfo6FE7VT9I/AAAAAAAACcE/amdFT_jyi54/s1600/rut4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJowS0JJ3xk/Vfo6FE7VT9I/AAAAAAAACcE/amdFT_jyi54/s320/rut4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V3KlnTVjes8/Vfo6gX4yf-I/AAAAAAAACcI/JSxMB5U22qc/s1600/cray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V3KlnTVjes8/Vfo6gX4yf-I/AAAAAAAACcI/JSxMB5U22qc/s320/cray.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I relished the climb up Lone Peak. This is what I had come for. Cory and Cadi surprised me and met me on the ridge. By the time I reached the summit, I realized that it had been awhile since I had put down calories. It was too hard to breathe, let alone eat. I felt woozy on the technical descent and my stomach was bothering me. Finally I stopped and let at least 6 people fly by me as I tried to eat a gel. I was starting to get a pounding headache with each step and I felt like I had to pee every 5 minutes. I needed some quick electrolytes but I forgot to bring my Endurolytes. I was counting on Tailwind but I was quickly running out of water and I had a long way to go to the next aid station.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4DuPZCBHNw4/Vfo6FKXiPEI/AAAAAAAACcA/SGeERIPgqTk/s1600/rut5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4DuPZCBHNw4/Vfo6FKXiPEI/AAAAAAAACcA/SGeERIPgqTk/s320/rut5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Everyone talks so much about the climb up to Lone Peak that I hadn't given the last 12 miles of the course any thought. I had glanced at the course profile and it looked like there were three uphill sections after Lone Peak. I was nearly out of water and it was starting to get hot as I ran down a fairly flat dirt road, but I was sure I would be to the aid station soon. There were two guys and a dog cheering us on and they told me it was still at least three miles until the aid station! If I could have changed one thing about the course I would have put a water-only aid station here. With the technical descent and the two uphills I was about to face, it just took a lot longer than expected to move through these eight miles.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Bu4SQ0k5OA/Vfo77MpXVXI/AAAAAAAACcY/nFqXOr8zZ_Q/s1600/rut6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Bu4SQ0k5OA/Vfo77MpXVXI/AAAAAAAACcY/nFqXOr8zZ_Q/s320/rut6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K7Mk-1UOTm0/Vfo761xasTI/AAAAAAAACcU/Pgv3uffgJBM/s1600/rut7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K7Mk-1UOTm0/Vfo761xasTI/AAAAAAAACcU/Pgv3uffgJBM/s320/rut7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I finally neared the aid station after some beautiful and hilly single track on a mountain bike course - ramps and ropes included! New friend, Vern, and I looked back and admired the mountain from which we had come. We moved quick through the aid station where they told me we had 5.5 miles to the finish. Since my GPS already said that we had gone 28 miles I thought we were closer to the finish. Oh well. Just gotta keep on keepin' on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After some amazingly runnable downhill singletrack and another uphill, I came around a corner and saw Cory and Cadi. I had made it to the finish! 9:37 I think. This was the best directed and organized race I have ever been a part of. Thanks to all of the people who worked their butts off to make it happen. I was so lucky to have a great day with some new friends and to see Cory and Cadi so much along the way. We will be back to run some more miles and to visit the place where we laid our sweet Mayla to rest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-34503971647550544242015-07-21T18:56:00.000-07:002015-07-21T18:56:47.348-07:00Can I please move to Ouray?So I haven't been running at all over the past few weeks. After San Juan Solstice it felt like my foot was broken or on the verge of breaking. I went to the doctor and she told me to wear a boot for a week. I wore it for 5 days and couldn't take it anymore. I've started hiking again and am slowly easing back into things. I didn't want to be the blogger who complains about how much it sucks to be injured so I haven't had much to write about. Until now!<br /><div><br /></div><div>Last weekend we went to Silverton for the Kendall Mountain Run. Cory is trying to get some points in the Sky distance races (marathon and shorter) for the US Skyrunning series and I am trying to do the Ultra distance races. Unfortunately because of my injury I wasn't able to compete at the Power of Four 50k on Sunday. Having an extra day to hang out in the San Juans was even better.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left on Thursday after work and camped in Salida. On Friday we hung out in Ouray and did a shakeout run with the pups. &nbsp;Now I want to live there. We headed over to Silverton for packet pickup and camped for free on South Mineral Creek Rd. Cory got 11th place man (12th overall) at the race and felt pretty good about his effort.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>On Sunday it was rainy but I suckered him into hiking up to Island Lake. I don't really have words to describe how beautiful this hike was. Instead, here's an anecdote. As a kid I would go to my grandma's house and, being a good Swiss woman, she would let me watch the movie <i>Heidi</i>. In the movie Heidi, my doppelganger, lived in this picturesque cabin in the mountains where she could roam free and breath the fresh mountain air. Well it's Grandma's fault that I moved to Colorado because Heidi's living situation always seemed pretty great to me. When I got up to the basin that contained Island Lake, Ice Lake, and many other lakes, I realized that this is where I want my cabin in the mountains. When I got my first view of Grant Swamp Pass over Island Lake, I screamed. The Hardrock course was right in front of me!</div><div><br /></div><div>We were sad when we had to drive home but fortunately we will be back next weekend to vacation with my parents and get Cory through the Ouray 100 course.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fair warning, the rest of this post is going to be pictures.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-676SME4-AbU/Va7PDYGvuJI/AAAAAAAACQ8/snjQekFIsGY/s1600/IMG_6809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-676SME4-AbU/Va7PDYGvuJI/AAAAAAAACQ8/snjQekFIsGY/s320/IMG_6809.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunset over the collegiate peaks as we camped in Salida</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNct8dyaIoo/Va7PQ-ZiHMI/AAAAAAAACRE/aCHJYLN6E5c/s1600/IMG_6810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNct8dyaIoo/Va7PQ-ZiHMI/AAAAAAAACRE/aCHJYLN6E5c/s320/IMG_6810.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pinnacles around Blue Mesa</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GB8XO2ATDM/Va7PVcjQ73I/AAAAAAAACRU/mx7kcmhB8jM/s1600/IMG_6825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GB8XO2ATDM/Va7PVcjQ73I/AAAAAAAACRU/mx7kcmhB8jM/s320/IMG_6825.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Playing ball with the pups at the park in Ouray</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e5S3J3v7tn8/Va7PUp0BxgI/AAAAAAAACRM/AtPgFURVhgU/s1600/IMG_6829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e5S3J3v7tn8/Va7PUp0BxgI/AAAAAAAACRM/AtPgFURVhgU/s320/IMG_6829.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla looks really happy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QQWySpHws6Y/Va7QPK32xwI/AAAAAAAACRk/V1jtRObvgSo/s1600/IMG_6834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QQWySpHws6Y/Va7QPK32xwI/AAAAAAAACRk/V1jtRObvgSo/s320/IMG_6834.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shakeout run in Ouray</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYOJEOnduzU/Va7QRTsSonI/AAAAAAAACRs/LKLoDkMCdhI/s1600/IMG_6837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZYOJEOnduzU/Va7QRTsSonI/AAAAAAAACRs/LKLoDkMCdhI/s320/IMG_6837.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Exploring Ouray</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IiutVM_9D0s/Va7QgL_8QuI/AAAAAAAACR8/8GTmxHGDmo0/s1600/IMG_6843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IiutVM_9D0s/Va7QgL_8QuI/AAAAAAAACR8/8GTmxHGDmo0/s320/IMG_6843.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My new tiny house</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y-oA6qTPOAc/Va7QeQ16vrI/AAAAAAAACR0/BuHUVpQRmT0/s1600/IMG_6844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y-oA6qTPOAc/Va7QeQ16vrI/AAAAAAAACR0/BuHUVpQRmT0/s320/IMG_6844.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I mean, how would you not want to live here?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zBOyEcPnUg/Va7RNSDu5bI/AAAAAAAACSM/HAC_laflVQo/s1600/IMG_6846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zBOyEcPnUg/Va7RNSDu5bI/AAAAAAAACSM/HAC_laflVQo/s320/IMG_6846.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My future swiss chalet</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kTN1TOFvMY4/Va7RRqNjQAI/AAAAAAAACSU/habQa2zBjaQ/s1600/IMG_6847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kTN1TOFvMY4/Va7RRqNjQAI/AAAAAAAACSU/habQa2zBjaQ/s320/IMG_6847.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">FJ Summit in Ouray... check out this sweet setup!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJn5JC1wpiM/Va7RHTx-akI/AAAAAAAACSE/_NhBpdp2hlA/s1600/IMG_6849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJn5JC1wpiM/Va7RHTx-akI/AAAAAAAACSE/_NhBpdp2hlA/s320/IMG_6849.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The race finish with Kendall Mt in the background</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0MNEmBFHX4/Va7RefZ0hzI/AAAAAAAACSk/ZV6YOEFA7DQ/s1600/IMG_6850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0MNEmBFHX4/Va7RefZ0hzI/AAAAAAAACSk/ZV6YOEFA7DQ/s320/IMG_6850.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Neither of us felt it was ok to pose next to the rock until we run the race</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vDgAhnPI_-4/Va7Rdlkqh7I/AAAAAAAACSc/K89H_CXo1a8/s1600/IMG_6863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vDgAhnPI_-4/Va7Rdlkqh7I/AAAAAAAACSc/K89H_CXo1a8/s320/IMG_6863.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our campsite the first night on Mineral Creek</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i3CCSdg0xSU/Va7R3UIM8GI/AAAAAAAACS0/AWQu3v5Rn5Y/s1600/IMG_6873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i3CCSdg0xSU/Va7R3UIM8GI/AAAAAAAACS0/AWQu3v5Rn5Y/s320/IMG_6873.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pre-race jitters</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kKZI-j2uEQ/Va7R4NoEJjI/AAAAAAAACS8/cWaVv3IpqwM/s1600/IMG_6882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kKZI-j2uEQ/Va7R4NoEJjI/AAAAAAAACS8/cWaVv3IpqwM/s320/IMG_6882.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fast start</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xItozgEboKw/Va7R1Ts8WlI/AAAAAAAACSs/PNro-W5ODJw/s1600/IMG_6887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xItozgEboKw/Va7R1Ts8WlI/AAAAAAAACSs/PNro-W5ODJw/s320/IMG_6887.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WfceeYd0Yhw/Va7SDV9CmuI/AAAAAAAACTE/pe4zcau_61s/s1600/IMG_6888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WfceeYd0Yhw/Va7SDV9CmuI/AAAAAAAACTE/pe4zcau_61s/s320/IMG_6888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kendall Mt looms over the town</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-clrMSw4DChc/Va7SG7KWHLI/AAAAAAAACTM/oHJq0ElusUs/s1600/IMG_6894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-clrMSw4DChc/Va7SG7KWHLI/AAAAAAAACTM/oHJq0ElusUs/s320/IMG_6894.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blue bird skies in the morning</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsmwQFIuLdQ/Va7TR47zDxI/AAAAAAAACTk/6UgMInkD-aA/s1600/IMG_6899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsmwQFIuLdQ/Va7TR47zDxI/AAAAAAAACTk/6UgMInkD-aA/s320/IMG_6899.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sage got first... big surprise</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5GvMpIBNi-s/Va7TPBudf3I/AAAAAAAACTY/TaxZKHouWW8/s1600/IMG_6900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5GvMpIBNi-s/Va7TPBudf3I/AAAAAAAACTY/TaxZKHouWW8/s320/IMG_6900.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mb7TCAwLI-E/Va7TRjwlcTI/AAAAAAAACTg/DUOG9uSQGkg/s1600/IMG_6908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mb7TCAwLI-E/Va7TRjwlcTI/AAAAAAAACTg/DUOG9uSQGkg/s320/IMG_6908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Timmy Parr in 2nd place</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GntPcJb2a60/Va7TlsI4-eI/AAAAAAAACTw/4p5n1dfggF8/s1600/IMG_6914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GntPcJb2a60/Va7TlsI4-eI/AAAAAAAACTw/4p5n1dfggF8/s320/IMG_6914.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Andrew Benford cruising in for 3rd</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RySvdt02XV8/Va7WD0frFfI/AAAAAAAACUs/ZtGUQ-bVGrg/s1600/IMG_6943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RySvdt02XV8/Va7WD0frFfI/AAAAAAAACUs/ZtGUQ-bVGrg/s320/IMG_6943.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stevie Kremer was the women's champion!&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Zbs9iFxPzY/Va7WE-SefBI/AAAAAAAACU0/TEbHc_Cj1qo/s1600/IMG_6957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Zbs9iFxPzY/Va7WE-SefBI/AAAAAAAACU0/TEbHc_Cj1qo/s320/IMG_6957.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory sprints it in</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jxs0-9IZN6c/Va7WNCcU6tI/AAAAAAAACVM/Arm3aPXwrZU/s1600/IMG_6964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jxs0-9IZN6c/Va7WNCcU6tI/AAAAAAAACVM/Arm3aPXwrZU/s320/IMG_6964.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The view from Molas Lake Campground where you can buy a hot shower</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ic4H0zYZDDw/Va7WL5NAhAI/AAAAAAAACVE/VD1pd2Jq5qo/s1600/IMG_6981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ic4H0zYZDDw/Va7WL5NAhAI/AAAAAAAACVE/VD1pd2Jq5qo/s320/IMG_6981.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Silverton to Durango</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ntLPtIHD4_0/Va7XUTT1XtI/AAAAAAAACVU/DrBREGLp79M/s1600/IMG_6987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ntLPtIHD4_0/Va7XUTT1XtI/AAAAAAAACVU/DrBREGLp79M/s320/IMG_6987.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The view from our campsite the second night&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aOSuk5IXLxM/Va7XbLzMXhI/AAAAAAAACVk/sp-3pnDjYhE/s1600/IMG_7010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aOSuk5IXLxM/Va7XbLzMXhI/AAAAAAAACVk/sp-3pnDjYhE/s320/IMG_7010.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rduKC_HM6ZA/Va7Xkkv0aII/AAAAAAAACVs/Qyds17Pbkbc/s1600/IMG_7019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rduKC_HM6ZA/Va7Xkkv0aII/AAAAAAAACVs/Qyds17Pbkbc/s320/IMG_7019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cadi in her cave</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F5uMGxFTSoM/Va7YUC1_xuI/AAAAAAAACV8/HCoZUNvoj24/s1600/IMG_7030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F5uMGxFTSoM/Va7YUC1_xuI/AAAAAAAACV8/HCoZUNvoj24/s320/IMG_7030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--PGJnXZxVOw/Va7YUyhYpII/AAAAAAAACWI/pSacCvK2Sa0/s1600/IMG_7055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--PGJnXZxVOw/Va7YUyhYpII/AAAAAAAACWI/pSacCvK2Sa0/s320/IMG_7055.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Snuggly Mayla&nbsp;</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZaeAyPZhIB4/Va7YYYDZ87I/AAAAAAAACWU/MYZNEMuwUZw/s1600/IMG_7061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZaeAyPZhIB4/Va7YYYDZ87I/AAAAAAAACWU/MYZNEMuwUZw/s320/IMG_7061.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rainbow over our camp site</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5IuaHHUJbo/Va7ZO4-hVrI/AAAAAAAACWs/tsJurfgHm6k/s1600/IMG_7070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5IuaHHUJbo/Va7ZO4-hVrI/AAAAAAAACWs/tsJurfgHm6k/s320/IMG_7070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunday hike up the Ice Lake Trail</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_rrBFgtrpw8/Va7ZJqS9OMI/AAAAAAAACWc/bN8NKA9LiU4/s1600/IMG_7075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_rrBFgtrpw8/Va7ZJqS9OMI/AAAAAAAACWc/bN8NKA9LiU4/s320/IMG_7075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy puppy!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xdy3CgRd40I/Va7ZMO-GVII/AAAAAAAACWk/VmhAe9NGOlE/s1600/IMG_7082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xdy3CgRd40I/Va7ZMO-GVII/AAAAAAAACWk/VmhAe9NGOlE/s320/IMG_7082.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyilBfnSlp0/Va7ZZYujV-I/AAAAAAAACW8/OjIJH0Bj444/s1600/IMG_7089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eyilBfnSlp0/Va7ZZYujV-I/AAAAAAAACW8/OjIJH0Bj444/s320/IMG_7089.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SLQ0HVM_Qck/Va7ZXFpuP8I/AAAAAAAACW0/U-wkspkldF8/s1600/IMG_7100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SLQ0HVM_Qck/Va7ZXFpuP8I/AAAAAAAACW0/U-wkspkldF8/s320/IMG_7100.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AWMzWNdl-Pk/Va7aBvRpSzI/AAAAAAAACXY/HPJC8GRVlJc/s1600/IMG_7103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AWMzWNdl-Pk/Va7aBvRpSzI/AAAAAAAACXY/HPJC8GRVlJc/s320/IMG_7103.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMn8xlvOQIM/Va7Z_R0egiI/AAAAAAAACXQ/PDtlxV8L8qM/s1600/IMG_7104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMn8xlvOQIM/Va7Z_R0egiI/AAAAAAAACXQ/PDtlxV8L8qM/s320/IMG_7104.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj3BJu2u32c/Va7Z9oJaZsI/AAAAAAAACXI/ERgdqe7ME6U/s1600/IMG_7112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yj3BJu2u32c/Va7Z9oJaZsI/AAAAAAAACXI/ERgdqe7ME6U/s320/IMG_7112.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-36lSyoNHWZk/Va7aOV0khzI/AAAAAAAACXg/y8Ejj4qAhgc/s1600/IMG_7121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-36lSyoNHWZk/Va7aOV0khzI/AAAAAAAACXg/y8Ejj4qAhgc/s320/IMG_7121.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Llamas</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Aeb_7e5ycs/Va7aP154mBI/AAAAAAAACXo/OOsQ0zVfFX8/s1600/IMG_7125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Aeb_7e5ycs/Va7aP154mBI/AAAAAAAACXo/OOsQ0zVfFX8/s320/IMG_7125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cqu3aOmGPX8/Va7bEOxr3sI/AAAAAAAACXw/nt471SZtoqQ/s1600/IMG_7133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cqu3aOmGPX8/Va7bEOxr3sI/AAAAAAAACXw/nt471SZtoqQ/s320/IMG_7133.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-amfRYHf5B9A/Va7bRYoJiFI/AAAAAAAACX4/l-JcOxgyUs8/s1600/IMG_7135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-amfRYHf5B9A/Va7bRYoJiFI/AAAAAAAACX4/l-JcOxgyUs8/s320/IMG_7135.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O70NqBjiljY/Va7bSJYnvmI/AAAAAAAACYA/4bBFfzs2RVs/s1600/IMG_7138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O70NqBjiljY/Va7bSJYnvmI/AAAAAAAACYA/4bBFfzs2RVs/s320/IMG_7138.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RYU2cCwK_k0/Va7cNPHp9EI/AAAAAAAACY4/NspRk25XKl4/s1600/IMG_7145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RYU2cCwK_k0/Va7cNPHp9EI/AAAAAAAACY4/NspRk25XKl4/s320/IMG_7145.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18x5dwtlgOE/Va7bh40Wk0I/AAAAAAAACYI/s4fIfS4N9Nc/s1600/IMG_7147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18x5dwtlgOE/Va7bh40Wk0I/AAAAAAAACYI/s4fIfS4N9Nc/s320/IMG_7147.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--VN6gyDj-_k/Va7biRXPt1I/AAAAAAAACYQ/cJpFfOpEFYs/s1600/IMG_7152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--VN6gyDj-_k/Va7biRXPt1I/AAAAAAAACYQ/cJpFfOpEFYs/s320/IMG_7152.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdG8IXrdknE/Va7bwG8PPiI/AAAAAAAACYY/4Wv0c7hx7yE/s1600/IMG_7158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdG8IXrdknE/Va7bwG8PPiI/AAAAAAAACYY/4Wv0c7hx7yE/s320/IMG_7158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First view of Grant Swamp Pass!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhlrWTZfM1k/Va7bxooZAdI/AAAAAAAACYg/ImJCiysDh7c/s1600/IMG_7165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhlrWTZfM1k/Va7bxooZAdI/AAAAAAAACYg/ImJCiysDh7c/s320/IMG_7165.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yi8Am3h2xZ4/Va7cDhfGPWI/AAAAAAAACYw/QB6zspz3A8w/s1600/IMG_7167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yi8Am3h2xZ4/Va7cDhfGPWI/AAAAAAAACYw/QB6zspz3A8w/s320/IMG_7167.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y1nBXLXwmEs/Va7cBie59YI/AAAAAAAACYo/YFeripP4D0U/s1600/IMG_7173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y1nBXLXwmEs/Va7cBie59YI/AAAAAAAACYo/YFeripP4D0U/s320/IMG_7173.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TVT9b-of9gg/Va7coYHGpDI/AAAAAAAACZA/qp5W9qJaWVM/s1600/IMG_7181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TVT9b-of9gg/Va7coYHGpDI/AAAAAAAACZA/qp5W9qJaWVM/s320/IMG_7181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7TcA2mjTqY/Va7c0JOQTSI/AAAAAAAACZQ/n98BswvtrYU/s1600/IMG_7192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7TcA2mjTqY/Va7c0JOQTSI/AAAAAAAACZQ/n98BswvtrYU/s320/IMG_7192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zeUXcAyKyH4/Va7cvKQYKMI/AAAAAAAACZI/e9KNNH2TRKM/s1600/IMG_7196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zeUXcAyKyH4/Va7cvKQYKMI/AAAAAAAACZI/e9KNNH2TRKM/s320/IMG_7196.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I asked this girl if it was weird to take a picture of her puppy and she said, "How could you not take a picture?"</div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-60778344013540888272015-06-29T10:39:00.000-07:002015-06-29T10:41:42.525-07:00San Juan Solstice Race ReportIf you went for a run with me during the weeks leading up to this race you probably heard me whine about how terrified I was to do the hardest 50 miler in the country. I probably tried to guilt you into pacing me. You probably heard me make some self-deprecating comment about how I wasn't sure if I could finish it. And as annoying as I can only imagine I was, I didn't see how it was possible to run the toughest race of my life without any pacers or any crew.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Let me back up. The San Juan Solstice is a 50 mile race that has 12,000 feet of elevation gain and about half of those miles are above tree line. In my experience, if trees can't grow there than my body doesn't function up there either. Despite (and because of) all of this, the race is pretty popular and they implemented a lottery system to select runners. Cory and I both got lucky and there was no way one of us was going to forfeit our spot to crew the other. I secured a pacer right away, a friend who had run the race before. I decided to check in with Jessica a month before the race to make sure everything was still good and it turns out she had the date wrong. No hard feelings Jess! I scrambled to round up another friend and everyone turned out to be busy, injured, or running their own race somewhere else. I was going to have to do this alone.</div><div><br /></div><div>The week leading up to the race I started to get sick: sore throat, sneezy, sinus pressure. After taking every herbal remedy on the planet and getting 9 hours of sleep a night I was ready to write it off as allergies. We made the long drive (6.5 hours due to construction!) to Lake City and pulled in to the Elkhorn RV resort. Let me tell you, these are the nicest people ever! Floyd, a former marathoner, had made a spot for us even though the campground was full. The most hospitable host I've ever met. He owns this place because he loves his community and can't wait to share it with others. Cleanest campground bathrooms I've ever seen and he made coffee for us at 4am!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MWvtI6nWCMA/VZFxGmHmujI/AAAAAAAACMw/P9WrqvPa8M0/s1600/IMG_6068%2B%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MWvtI6nWCMA/VZFxGmHmujI/AAAAAAAACMw/P9WrqvPa8M0/s320/IMG_6068%2B%25281%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First glimpse of the San Juans</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M_DncC10WGE/VZFxCxyC4II/AAAAAAAACMo/NG7P3mtFQZE/s1600/IMG_6070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M_DncC10WGE/VZFxCxyC4II/AAAAAAAACMo/NG7P3mtFQZE/s320/IMG_6070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The view from our tent</div></div><div><br /></div><div>After packet pickup, we made pasta at our camp site. I had forgotten to pack salt so we wandered over to our neighbors to ask for a pinch. They told us to take a seat and we got the run down of the course from Chris Dickey with Jesse Rickert occasionally chiming in. They had brought the whole crew: grandparents, kids, dogs. It was so refreshing to see people including their whole family in the race experience. Chris was pretty humble so we didn't realize how fast these guys were until Cory checked results from the previous years; we had gotten advice and salt from some pretty speedy veterans.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a bad headache so we went to sleep before the sun set and before we knew it, it was 3:45am. Time to get ready. We walked over to the start, saw some friends, and suddenly it was 5am. The course follows a dirt road before turning off to some single track that has a ton of raging creek crossings. There was a lot of hype about these crossings because we had so much late season snow and rain this year. The first one was unroped and nearly knocked me off my feet. At another crossing a girl pulled on the rope and knocked me off balance, somehow the rope got stuck on my vest and was pulling me into the water, it took all my strength to lift myself out. At the next crossing I got wrapped around a log. Fortunately I had only gotten soaked to just above the waist. At each crossing my feet became numb and I was unable to run.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally we rose out of the creek bed and began the ascent to Alpine Gulch. The creek crossings had shocked us all into silence and no one had said a word to each other. I didn't feel like I was racing I just felt like I was surviving. Finally at the the aid station we were greeted with the sun and I started to feel my feet again. My one goal from here on out was to finish the race without puking. I had no time goals or any aspirations to beat anyone. I simply wanted to master my stomach. As we neared treeline for the first time, I heard a friendly voice behind me say, "There's another Pearl Izumi runner." I turned around to see John Lacroix, a guy I had never met but had heard a lot about.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i1roMRIzW6w/VZFy_RDhCQI/AAAAAAAACM8/FGYwaFye128/s1600/IMG_6072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i1roMRIzW6w/VZFy_RDhCQI/AAAAAAAACM8/FGYwaFye128/s320/IMG_6072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally past the major creek crossings</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHRKvnOU8WA/VZFzH0mzzEI/AAAAAAAACNM/hhDTEj8YxVg/s1600/IMG_6074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHRKvnOU8WA/VZFzH0mzzEI/AAAAAAAACNM/hhDTEj8YxVg/s320/IMG_6074.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just after the first aid station</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6mDEfae0Xy0/VZFzRuQqhmI/AAAAAAAACNU/_fUlXjsR2Uw/s1600/IMG_6076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6mDEfae0Xy0/VZFzRuQqhmI/AAAAAAAACNU/_fUlXjsR2Uw/s320/IMG_6076.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Near the top of the first climb</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x_XlzsPbTXM/VZFzSjvQMuI/AAAAAAAACNY/lahBUHkMOek/s1600/IMG_6077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x_XlzsPbTXM/VZFzSjvQMuI/AAAAAAAACNY/lahBUHkMOek/s320/IMG_6077.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tiny people dotting the ridge</div></div><div><br /></div><div>John and I pretty much spent the next 25 miles together give or take and his company was exactly what I needed for the toughest part of the course. As we crested the first climb John kept teasing this guy saying he needed a picture of his ass for his ass calendar and telling him that it is now "ok to be gay." I felt compelled to explain that John was straight and has been married for a long time. After that, the guy, Donovan from Atlanta, fell in stride with us and rounded out our trio. John dubbed him Peaches.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW7unJMi5BE/VZF0oibxldI/AAAAAAAACNo/Q7TXBjnhFHg/s1600/IMG_6078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW7unJMi5BE/VZF0oibxldI/AAAAAAAACNo/Q7TXBjnhFHg/s320/IMG_6078.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The most beautiful part of the day</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ttJGM0rCCjM/VZF0pYp5boI/AAAAAAAACNw/N6rxrqXe2cQ/s1600/IMG_6079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ttJGM0rCCjM/VZF0pYp5boI/AAAAAAAACNw/N6rxrqXe2cQ/s320/IMG_6079.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">John and Peaches heading down the mountain</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I realized on the first descent that I hadn't felt sick yet. Yippy! That was short lived. On the steep, jostling downhill to William's Creek, my stomach turned. This section also had a good bit of mud and as I was jumping through a boggy section, my shoe got sucked off. Think fire swamp from the Princess Bride. My shoe appeared to be gone. I dug my hand through the Giardia-laden sludge with no luck. We started stabbing around with my trekking poles and finally the hot pink heel tab appeared. Everyone continued on while I took a few minutes to try to make room for my foot in the mud shoe.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I reached Williams Creek I felt pretty shitty but the crowd boosted my morale. All day I found that this race has the nicest volunteers I have ever met. And I am not exaggerating one bit. Because Cory had come through and used our drop bag, they had put it in the used pile. A young girl helped me find it, and told me that the guy who used it was doing really well. I wanted to give her the biggest hug for giving me the news! I was so excited that I left without my trekking poles and had to go back to get them.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>After Williams Creek at mile 15 or so, there is a flat road section. I should have made good time but I couldn't run and keep my food down. Fortunately some guys walked with me for a while but when I started my first round of dry heaving, they pressed ahead. When I reached the start of the next big climb to Carson, about 6 ATVs jumped ahead of me on the dirt road. Choking down dust and trying not to vomit, I decided now would be a good time to listen to music. At this point I thought John and Peaches were still ahead of me and that I would be alone the rest of the day. My music didn't help, I felt like sitting down for a good ol' cry. Just about then, Peaches came from behind me. Apparently he and John had taken longer at the aid. Soon John caught us too and the conversation was exactly what I needed to take my mind off the climb.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xk4whHM70iU/VZF2ECcEtQI/AAAAAAAACN4/EdFlTOb-GVc/s1600/11694798_10153106900224247_7473243159856872060_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xk4whHM70iU/VZF2ECcEtQI/AAAAAAAACN4/EdFlTOb-GVc/s320/11694798_10153106900224247_7473243159856872060_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Me and Peaches... It looks flat but it wasn't</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Lacroix</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Somehow we made it to Carson where I made a decision that almost screwed up my entire race. I filled my bottle with more Tailwind and left the aid station without grabbing any gels from my drop bag. For some reason, in my altitude-addled memory, I thought my next drop bag was at the Divide Aid station in 9 miles. I didn't even take stock of what I had, I just filled my bottles and pushed on. As we neared the Continental Divide, there were dark clouds looming on the ridge. Going into this race my biggest fear was that I would get altitude sickness on the ridge and be forced to stumble along in a thunderstorm.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QitpDQkcOX0/VZF3YyfQbrI/AAAAAAAACOQ/g6aMponfZm4/s1600/IMG_6082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QitpDQkcOX0/VZF3YyfQbrI/AAAAAAAACOQ/g6aMponfZm4/s320/IMG_6082.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Climbing out of Carson with clouds looming on the ridge</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXNbBUyN-FE/VZF4p8_ja3I/AAAAAAAACOw/N010HKYSNGM/s1600/IMG_6085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QXNbBUyN-FE/VZF4p8_ja3I/AAAAAAAACOw/N010HKYSNGM/s320/IMG_6085.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Waterfalls foreshadow the snowfields to come</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ofsg64d5XlU/VZF4pjyRloI/AAAAAAAACOs/phI9oZa8cDQ/s1600/IMG_6086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ofsg64d5XlU/VZF4pjyRloI/AAAAAAAACOs/phI9oZa8cDQ/s320/IMG_6086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Little runners climbing out of Carson</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--S62nY-Ok7I/VZF4mjlmGUI/AAAAAAAACOk/AEFrzJ683nU/s1600/IMG_6087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--S62nY-Ok7I/VZF4mjlmGUI/AAAAAAAACOk/AEFrzJ683nU/s320/IMG_6087.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Getting nervous that these clouds appeared out of nowhere</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZ3PIukRV0E/VZF3GvyZgDI/AAAAAAAACOI/mCuhPEXRyrs/s1600/10470767_10153412024163745_6595356726640116964_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iZ3PIukRV0E/VZF3GvyZgDI/AAAAAAAACOI/mCuhPEXRyrs/s320/10470767_10153412024163745_6595356726640116964_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So damn tired</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by Wesley Cropp</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dIV70ZBkyFc/VZF3GplVKqI/AAAAAAAACOM/gWpoFE1TPr4/s1600/11403375_10153106903454247_7025482841528616371_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dIV70ZBkyFc/VZF3GplVKqI/AAAAAAAACOM/gWpoFE1TPr4/s320/11403375_10153106903454247_7025482841528616371_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally on the CDT/CT near the summit</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo by John Lacroix</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>We got to the summit and I had managed to keep my calories down. I knew I wouldn't be able to manage anything more than occasional sips of Tailwind. After the summit, we hit our first snow field. From that point on I felt like a baby deer taking it's first steps. I got a pounding headache, became very dizzy, and felt like I had no control over my own two feet. I was using my trekking poles like crutches. Peaches fell behind and Wesley Cropp joined our group. John started telling me a story and it was all I could do to stay within earshot. He persistently offered me what he called a "Redline Pill" which was a caffeine capsule that he thought would clear my head. At that point I was desperate. I knew the only thing that would help my headache was getting below tree line.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>We had made it through the snow fields and began stomping through frozen slush puddles. It was miserable. It started to thunder and my core temperature dropped. My feet were again numb and it appeared that my worst fears were coming true. I was reduced to crawling along the ridge on the verge of tears, my head hammering with the altitude, thunder looming over head, water bottles empty, no sign of the aid station. And then it started to snow. Not a lot, but just enough to make me feel broken. I didn't think there was any way I could finish this thing. We were just over half way done.</div><div><br /></div><div>I finally made it down to some willows and was walking the downhill. So many people passed me. I was so thirsty and it had been so long since I had put down any calories, I thought there was no way I was coming back from this bonk. I remembered that my drop bag was not actually at the next aid station but figured they would have some other gels. Much more dry-heaving ensued but I was determined not to puke. We tromped through some more mud and there was a lot of swearing. I wanted to drop but I knew there was no good way down from the Divide Aid Station. I would have to walk 4 miles and then hitch hike to town.</div><div><br /></div><div>After what felt like an eternity, the Divide Aid Station was finally in sight. I tried not to think about how only 31 miles had destroyed me so much. As I stumbled in looking like death, a volunteer told me that Cory had badly sprained his ankle and had dropped out. I was crushed. Did he need my help? Should I head back to town to take care of him? She said he was in good spirits and couldn't wait to come back next year and I knew he was just saying that to be nice. I knew that regardless of any circumstance if he took his first ultra-marathon DNF he was going to be beating himself up about it. I was also dismayed to find out there were no gels. I was so low on energy and all I had were two gels and an almond butter packet to make it the next 9 miles to Slumgullion.</div><div><br /></div><div>John was leaving the aid station at about this time and offered me some Honey Stinger gels. They taste so good but they always make me throw up and, again, my one goal was to not throw up. I was a stubborn bitch at this aid station despite the nicest people working there and when I told John I didn't want his gels he told me, "Well fuck you," in the nicest way possible and left. That was the last time I'd see him all race. I walked out of the Divide aid station at 3pm doing some simple math. I had 3 hours to walk the next 9 miles of mostly runnable down hill otherwise I would miss the cut off. I kind of wanted to miss the cut off because I wanted to be done so badly. I decided if I walked the whole way, made it in time, and didn't feel any worse, I would try to finish.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next section was nothing to be proud of. I hated every minute. We were still above 11,000 feet and my head was still pounding and my stomach still revolting. The views had turned to mesas instead of peaks and I could feel the sun burning my skin. Many people passed me and I thought for sure the sweeper was going to come by and tell me I was done. I started brainstorming how I would break the news on Facebook. "The Linfield family was stymied by the San Juan mountains. Cory escaped with a nearly broken ankle and I have no excuse except for the fact that I am a weak baby." That's when I snapped out of it. It hadn't been a perfect day but it could have been a lot worse. I had NO EXCUSE to quit. After 5 miles of walking I hit tree line and tried to eat my almond butter packet. Half of it ended up on my face, my hair, my hands, and my shorts. But after that I decided to run walk the next 3-4 miles into Slumgullion.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ff3EaqjFOc/VZF8EtGR9WI/AAAAAAAACPI/DKNQESyoQUM/s1600/IMG_6091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ff3EaqjFOc/VZF8EtGR9WI/AAAAAAAACPI/DKNQESyoQUM/s320/IMG_6091.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally out of the thundersnow</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bh4hL2G7A_I/VZF8WLECMSI/AAAAAAAACPM/W6kuLx4UG70/s1600/IMG_6092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bh4hL2G7A_I/VZF8WLECMSI/AAAAAAAACPM/W6kuLx4UG70/s320/IMG_6092.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The road from hell leading out of the Divide aid station</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-veWmwyff8KM/VZF8BPKxPfI/AAAAAAAACPA/FejtQY3hBcY/s1600/IMG_6093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-veWmwyff8KM/VZF8BPKxPfI/AAAAAAAACPA/FejtQY3hBcY/s320/IMG_6093.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After 5 miles of walking we were headed back below tree line</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere in those miles I decided I was going to finish the race. It was too painful to quit. I figured if I finished, I would get my finishers hat and I would never have to run it again. I could come back and pace Cory or volunteer and I wouldn't feel like I had any unfinished business with the course. I started passing people and just before Slum, I caught up with Patrick, a guy who had encouraged me on the Divide. He said he was going to quit and that he wasn't having fun anymore. I told him that he didn't want to be the guy who quits 10 miles from the finish and that finishing a 50-miler is work. When we got to the aid station he saw his family and I saw Cory! Cory was hobbling around in an ankle brace and wasn't much help but getting a hug from him and hearing that he was proud of me was all I needed to fuel me to the finish.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I had 3 hours and 45 minutes to make it the last 10 miles. I know that sounds easy, but those 10 miles involved another 2,000 feet of climbing and my old meta-tarsal injury was acting up. Every step felt like my foot was breaking and that my shin muscle was pulling away from the bone. I put my music back on and started to pick people off. Now that the rest of the course was below 11,000 feet I could start eating again and honestly I thought this section through Vickers Ranch was the most beautiful part of the course. The dense Aspen groves and sweeping views reminded me of the MAS 50, my first 50 miler.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kAZLE7EcDgA/VZF9pyuMTaI/AAAAAAAACPc/pQoKZI3pzaI/s1600/IMG_6095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kAZLE7EcDgA/VZF9pyuMTaI/AAAAAAAACPc/pQoKZI3pzaI/s320/IMG_6095.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Near the top of the last big climb... we could still hear thunder in the distance</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Eventually I got my first view of town but it was still a long way off. I hadn't given much thought to the last descent but it was awful. 2,000 feet of descent in 2 miles hurts like a motherf!@#$% after doing what we had just done. It was slippery and loose and I kept falling. Again I thought of my spirit animal for the day, an uncoordinated baby deer. When it was finally over and I hit the dirt road leading to town a guy told me that there was only 1 mile left. I was nervous that he was lying and I didn't want to get my hopes up because if I got to the finish line in 15 minutes I would break 15 hours.</div><div><br />The most painful 10 minutes of my life ensued and I crossed the finish line in 14:56. We stuck around to cheer people on for the last hour and watched a few heart breakers cross the line after the 16 hour cutoff. I felt nothing but gratitude to all of the people that made the day possible. Even after the race volunteers kept taking care of us. I attained my goal of finishing without puking!<br /><br />We woke up the next morning feeling broken and hobbled over to the awards ceremony and breakfast. My eyes were more hungry than my stomach would allow. I got my finishers hat and was surprised to win 3rd place in my age group. I got to reconnect with my friend Sadie who pulled out a 2nd place finish after taking a year and a half off from racing. That girl doesn't even know how fast she is or at least she is too humble to admit it.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5GVmM-8mXKs/VZGAQ5vxYeI/AAAAAAAACPo/-tymSi0wiJM/s1600/IMG_6098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5GVmM-8mXKs/VZGAQ5vxYeI/AAAAAAAACPo/-tymSi0wiJM/s320/IMG_6098.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What? Me? Award? Slowest runner award?</div><br />So about that plate of food that I couldn't eat. I brought it back to the car and set it on the hood while we loaded everything up. Confession: We drove a few miles before I realized that I hadn't grabbed the plate of food! I'm sorry Lake City! You were so nice to me and I littered! I will be back to volunteer and make up for it. But I don't think I can bring myself to run this race again. I am totally broken today and can hardly move but it was a race I will never forget!<br /><br /></div><div><br /></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-86625968550927821482015-06-03T10:45:00.000-07:002015-06-03T10:45:49.034-07:00Dirty 30 Race Report 2015You know that feeling you have before your birthday where you think it's going to be a fun day but you don't want to get your hopes just in case it isn't? Maybe that's weird and other people don't experience that. I figure if I expect the worst and the worst happens then it's not so bad. If the day ends up being awesome then I will appreciate it more. That was my mentality going in to the Dirty 30 this year.<br /><br />When I ran this race in 2013, I had a great experience. I suffered around mile 18, threw up, and then felt awesome and finished strong. I made some cool friends during the race and they helped me to run faster. In 2014, things were just rough. The race start was pushed back an hour and we had to take shuttle buses to the start because the parking lot was damaged by floods. Everyone showed up for the last shuttle and so the race started late on what turned out to be a very hot day. The course was two miles longer because of new single track so our times were unexpectedly slower. I felt crappy all day and when I tried to make friends, people were generally cranky. The post-race party got rained on and everyone left pretty quickly. Not the experience I was hoping for.<br /><br />Going into this year's race I tried to temper my expectations. I was a bit sleep deprived heading into the race due to taking care of a sick dog who was throwing up all night on Thursday. Friday night we only got 5 hours of sleep because we decided to get up to the race start by 4:45am to get one of the few parking spots. It was worth it to not have to take the shuttle buses. One thing I did not anticipate is that I started feeling sick before the race even started. Lack of sleep + anxiety = nausea. Originally my goal was to finish in 7-7.5 hours but at this point I decided that I would just be happy to finish faster than last year's 7:40.<br /><br />The one change that I didn't like about the race this year was the wave starts. Usually everyone starts at the same time which usually causes a bottleneck as everyone gets siphoned onto the single track. Knowing this, I usually start fast to get a good position. We are all adults and can make our own decisions about race strategy. The RD decided to mitigate this and we had 4 waves this year that started 5 minutes apart. I realize that it's a good idea in theory, but it was very difficult as a woman to decide what wave to start in. Obviously the guys hoping to be in the lead pack all start in wave 1 (people expecting to finish in the 4:30 to 6:00 hour range). Last year, only two women fit in that category, but if you start in wave 2 or 3 then you have no idea how far ahead the few leaders are. It created a weird dynamic where you weren't sure if the people around you were 5 minutes ahead of or behind you. When I pass someone, I want to know that I really passed them.<br /><br />Enough about that. I started in wave 2 and spent the first few miles staring at Shelly Rollison's backside and her awesome RPF gaiters. That girl got after it and was a perfect pace setter. I was hoping my stomach would settle after getting started, but it did not. Fortunately one guy got chatty near the top of the first climb and we talked about San Juan Solstice. It was nice to get my mind off of how I felt. After passing through Aid 1 my stomach continued to deteriorate. I was very intentional about putting down calories (Tailwind) even though I didn't want to.<br /><br />Around mile 9 I started getting into a really negative head space. You know the typical stuff like "I suck at running" or "why am I even out here if I'm not enjoying it." As we descended through a beautiful aspen grove with a fantastic view of the mountains I thought about how much I'd rather be camping and exploring the high country. &nbsp;From behind I heard a voice hollering, "I'm going to pass Allisa!!" and without knowing it, Jared Conlin helped me to snap out of those negative thoughts. I decided that even if my body was rebelling I wasn't going to let myself slip into a downward spiral of negativity.<br /><br />Jared and I left Aid 2 together but he quickly gained ground on the climb up the Coyote Trail. I was in rough shape at the top. I felt like throwing up as I stumbled through the next few miles. During the technical Black Bear Trail section a 50+ woman named Vicki caught me and she runs like a boss! An assertive little spitfire! I wanted so badly to throw up but she wanted me to stay with her on the rocky downhill to make sure that she didn't get lost. As we descended the rough stuff I started to feel better as we got lower in elevation and by the time I hit Aid 3 I was in a new mental and physical state.<br /><br />Seeing Cory at this Aid Station cheered me up and made me pull myself together. It was time to rally. I had saved my music for this part and so I was rocking out as I picked people off on the climb up the Horseshoe Trail. I soon saw my friend, Will, and we ran/hiked the next few miles together until we caught Jared. I felt like a new person and though it was difficult to eat I made sure to keep putting calories down.<br /><br />By the time we reached Aid 4 at mile 24.5 Jared was a little bit ahead. I'm normally not happy to let anyone pass me, but Phil came whizzing by! Seeing another friend made the prospect of the last climb seem less daunting. Will, Phil, and I all left Aid 4 together with the unspoken goal of catching Jared. Despite feeling so sick earlier in the race, Cory told me that I was just within my 7:30 time goal and so I was determined to make it. Just before Windy Peak I twisted my ankle pretty bad but I wasn't going to let anything get me down.<br /><br />As we started the climb up Windy, hands on knees, we could see Jared's bright green shirt ahead of us. Soon all four of us were marching up the mountain together and I cannot tell you how much of a difference it made being surrounded by friends. We were all, more or less, within a quarter mile of each other at the summit and Phil and I let it rip on the downhill. I could tell Phil was determined to not let me chick him, and it was all I could do to keep him in my sight as we passed at least 4 people in the last mile.<br /><br />I made my goal and finished in 7:21 as the 22nd woman. Despite feeling sick for the first 18 miles I had a great day. The weather was perfect and it never got too hot. The camaraderie was a game-changer and the post-race party was super fun. I will never take it for granted that we have such a great running community here in Denver. I love this place I call home.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-svqHVULz32k/VW84YiKWh5I/AAAAAAAACLM/CvawETHaA9I/s1600/11393047_10206726894952383_6580552609620184990_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-svqHVULz32k/VW84YiKWh5I/AAAAAAAACLM/CvawETHaA9I/s320/11393047_10206726894952383_6580552609620184990_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Leaving Aid 3 (photo Terry Miller)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVrwWmjtofo/VW84TOsp2KI/AAAAAAAACLA/_9qWDHsBX9s/s1600/11148833_10203456634091062_2318825590600754907_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVrwWmjtofo/VW84TOsp2KI/AAAAAAAACLA/_9qWDHsBX9s/s320/11148833_10203456634091062_2318825590600754907_o.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not sure what part of the race this is but based on how crappy Phil and I look it must be near the end (photo Kurt Hardester)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJSv-AcX9V4/VW84VRubvrI/AAAAAAAACLI/Ys1RP-C0M7w/s1600/11393352_10203457955044085_6018577768566640106_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJSv-AcX9V4/VW84VRubvrI/AAAAAAAACLI/Ys1RP-C0M7w/s320/11393352_10203457955044085_6018577768566640106_o.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Most awkward thumbs up ever (photo Kurt Hardester)</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj9Dl-LSGHs/VW84aWQbkmI/AAAAAAAACLU/B_kpS32Dh-g/s1600/10917450_10203456432246016_6687632395383353655_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj9Dl-LSGHs/VW84aWQbkmI/AAAAAAAACLU/B_kpS32Dh-g/s320/10917450_10203456432246016_6687632395383353655_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Climbing Windy Peak, trying to keep the guys in sight (photo Kurt Hardester)</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t3iGPTKmMH4/VW84chbwFII/AAAAAAAACLc/q7uceWXIiZk/s1600/11391099_10153349489543745_4604669600149100294_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t3iGPTKmMH4/VW84chbwFII/AAAAAAAACLc/q7uceWXIiZk/s320/11391099_10153349489543745_4604669600149100294_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Love these ladies! Julia (left) got 5th!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J8tcExOzo-g/VW84eyJ1nRI/AAAAAAAACLk/_Z8SsviUMuA/s1600/11329891_10153293452727435_2361772010375268404_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J8tcExOzo-g/VW84eyJ1nRI/AAAAAAAACLk/_Z8SsviUMuA/s320/11329891_10153293452727435_2361772010375268404_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-28906504215801968992015-05-25T14:40:00.001-07:002015-05-25T14:40:35.766-07:00I'm still aliveIt's been almost two months since my last blog post. Every day that goes by I feel overwhelmed thinking that I have so much to write about and I don't even know where to begin. So I'm not going to go into detail rehashing the last two months. The last thing I wrote about was how burned out I was feeling, and, rest assured, I'm not feeling burned out anymore.<div><br /></div><div>We had just mounted the Tepui Tent on top of our car and gotten in our first good weekend of camping when Colorado got slammed with rain and gray skies like I've never seen here before. We've come to expect that the weather could change at any minute, which is why it was so odd that it stayed the same for so long. The same angry, bland sky devoid of any sun. It's become tedious even talking about the weather because it's old news and everyone is over it.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime I found a new appreciation for road running and hiking. I got a new pair of road shoes, the Pearl Izumi Road N3 and they are simply the best road shoes I have ever owned - and I'm not exaggerating! I used to dread pounding the pavement but the last few weeks I actually looked forward to strapping on my N3s. The other thing I usually dread is waking up early and, with a new-found running buddy named Courtney who is up for any adventure, I've come to really enjoy dawn patrol. I've made it my goal to do Mt. Morrison once a week in preparation for The Rut 50k and Morrison has got 2,000 feet of elevation gain in two miles. It's a lot easier to wake up at 4am when you have someone to run/hike with.</div><div><br /></div><div>The other week, Courtney and I were talking and I was thinking about the kind of person I used to be. When I think back to the person I was in high school, I really don't like that girl. I remember going to bed and thinking that I hated the person I was but didn't have a clue who I wanted to become. At some point I snapped out of it and became determined to live every day as the person I wanted to be. I decided not to be controlled by regret: to stop worrying about things that had passed and to start dreaming about what was in the future.</div><div><br /></div><div>In April when I wrote about feeling burned out, a lot of well-meaning friends tried to encourage me by saying, "It will pass," or, "It's just the winter blues." And they were right. Sometimes, though, I think it's important to take stock of why you are feeling certain things instead of trying to push them away and just get over it. When things feel forced and you spend every day feeling like you are doing battle, sometimes you need to reassess what your goals are. Are your current actions taking you to a place you want to be?</div><div><br /></div><div>If my goals include wanting to push my legs to their physical limit, wanting to see and <i>enjoy</i> as many beautiful trails as possible, and overall spending as much time outside as I can manage, then racing early and often is maybe not the best approach. For example, it is a beautiful Memorial Day and I am lucky enough to have the day off. Am I outside running and exploring? No, because I have a race next weekend and I am tapering. I'm really excited to challenge myself at that race but it comes with consequences.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll still race next year but I am trying to commit to not doing any races between January and April. This means that our winter can be spent snowshoeing or doing fun runs with friends instead of having a certain number of miles to get in on any given day. I hope this prevents the Spring burnout from happening again. I'll also try to do less racing to free up more weekends to camp and explore the high country in the summer months. Maybe we'll finally get to knock off the Gore Range Trail and do some of the traverses we have been charting but won't have enough time to fit in between racing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've learned to embrace being in a funk. Some would call these periods "valleys." I've decided that I like going uphill. And hopefully this will be the last of the emotional posts of the year and I'll be sharing lots more race reports and adventures.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BeoW45q1VRs/VWOWExik-3I/AAAAAAAACJo/rLItKaHki1Y/s1600/11140296_10153280284723745_3781722018431755524_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BeoW45q1VRs/VWOWExik-3I/AAAAAAAACJo/rLItKaHki1Y/s320/11140296_10153280284723745_3781722018431755524_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Camping</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gL685oJEfNw/VWOWGs-b94I/AAAAAAAACJw/3EUW8Hsg27Q/s1600/11165255_10153288825623745_3652712212829463726_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gL685oJEfNw/VWOWGs-b94I/AAAAAAAACJw/3EUW8Hsg27Q/s320/11165255_10153288825623745_3652712212829463726_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mapping adventures</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUe5D_S-wPk/VWOWKmvbtdI/AAAAAAAACJ4/Z3u8uc__K1g/s1600/11209577_10153308396118745_1422116520531221242_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUe5D_S-wPk/VWOWKmvbtdI/AAAAAAAACJ4/Z3u8uc__K1g/s320/11209577_10153308396118745_1422116520531221242_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lots of rain</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNS3nbqJQeo/VWOWNQgrQCI/AAAAAAAACKA/L4J90fX3Y7Y/s1600/10928183_10153295635078745_900034154592108651_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNS3nbqJQeo/VWOWNQgrQCI/AAAAAAAACKA/L4J90fX3Y7Y/s320/10928183_10153295635078745_900034154592108651_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And a few good sunrises</div><div><br /></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-13357551745422972072015-04-03T09:07:00.001-07:002015-04-03T09:07:27.104-07:00BurnoutMarch was not the easiest month. It started off with a bad illness. Then I got lost at a race and quit. It's been rough getting back into the swing of things. Most days I don't feel like running and, honestly, there are days that I've thought that maybe I don't want to run at all anymore, ever. Most days I still push myself to get out there but instead of doing 60-70 mile per week like I have planned, I'm doing 30-40.<br /><br />I've been spending a lot of time in my head lately. I know, it's a dangerous place to be. I keep coming back to this idea. It comes from a verse in the Bible. "Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands." I feel like that is very contrary to the way we are pressured to live on a daily basis. Fill your calendar, have places to go and people to meet, get promoted, fight for a raise, get little sleep. Essentially never settle and never be content with what you have.<br /><br />I feel it in my running too. Throughout February I would wake up before sunrise and get 4-5 miles of roads in before work in the freezing cold. Then I would run after work, too. It was all about squeezing the miles in. I was determined that if I could build up to 70 miles per week I would have the breakout race I was hoping for. But you know what I learned? I hate junk miles. I'm tired of dragging myself out there and for what? So I can be a marginally faster mid-pack runner? I'm never going to make a name or a place for myself in running.<br /><br />I'm not trying to have a pity party here... it's just the reality and even if I did have some big improvements I'm not sure I would want to be a recognized runner. Take Anton Krupicka for example. If someone caught him taking a walk break on his run up Green Mountain they would probably judge him a little. The guy can't run a race for fun without having to tune out social media. Once you get to that level, you have to prove yourself every day. You can't just have an easy run without having to justify it with an injury or illness. I don't want that.<br /><br />I keep watching the new Salomon Trail Running TV episode on YouTube about Fell Running in the UK. There is a quote where Billy Bland, fell running legend, says, "You just pulled your shorts on and did what you thought was right." This guy gets it. We run our best and love it the most when we mind our own business and live a quiet life. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXPtJ5rRM-M" target="_blank">Click here</a> for a link to the video.<br /><br />Looking at the next couple of months I'm intimidated by the things I have planned. A tough 50k followed by arguably the hardest 50 miler in the US. Then three US skyrunning ultras. I'm fearful that I'm not going to get the drive back that I once had in my training. But I think I'm just going to have to change my training. I need to put the adventure back in my running. There are times to push limits but right now I need to focus on enjoying the simple and ordinary things that make up my life. The cold air stinging my cheeks in the morning. The sudden warmth of the sun in the afternoon. Flowers along the trail that weren't there a few days ago. Springtime birds stretching out their vocal cords.<br /><br />Here is a final thought. It's not that it is bad to grasp for something more, it's just that at some point you need to stop and look around you and say, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is." It was Vonnegut who suggested that, by the way.<br /><br />Here are some pictures from my short and slow run this morning on Green Mountain.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gL4zh0jDln0/VR65PvHnutI/AAAAAAAACGs/DropsmbqcTM/s1600/IMG_4773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gL4zh0jDln0/VR65PvHnutI/AAAAAAAACGs/DropsmbqcTM/s1600/IMG_4773.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-haime_vMHyU/VR65XC2lvnI/AAAAAAAACG0/A2K7cqA8ldo/s1600/IMG_4775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-haime_vMHyU/VR65XC2lvnI/AAAAAAAACG0/A2K7cqA8ldo/s1600/IMG_4775.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VaQN8WWS6ew/VR65afhITEI/AAAAAAAACG8/ULjVEZZwK5E/s1600/IMG_4792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VaQN8WWS6ew/VR65afhITEI/AAAAAAAACG8/ULjVEZZwK5E/s1600/IMG_4792.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5bbUGbmLYd0/VR65jFwMiLI/AAAAAAAACHE/W9c9_fmAPAE/s1600/IMG_4800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5bbUGbmLYd0/VR65jFwMiLI/AAAAAAAACHE/W9c9_fmAPAE/s1600/IMG_4800.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xP02r0wC77Y/VR65kiciFwI/AAAAAAAACHM/moOD0knSkto/s1600/IMG_4801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xP02r0wC77Y/VR65kiciFwI/AAAAAAAACHM/moOD0knSkto/s1600/IMG_4801.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-53699237160250930792015-03-15T18:37:00.001-07:002015-03-15T19:03:48.758-07:00Salida Run Through Time Marathon 2015This is the third year I have shown up for this event and it never fails to be a great weekend. I'll cut to the chase here: I didn't finish the race this weekend. I still got in lots of miles on some of my favorite trails and got to hang out with a lot of my favorite people. Sometimes your race doesn't go as planned, but that's not a reason to scrap the weekend and pout about it. On the other hand I did wake up at 5am this morning to the sound of Mayla dog throwing up and after cleaning that up I laid awake in bed thinking about what I could have done different to not get lost on the course.<br /><br />My goals going into this race were ambitious. I wanted to run a time in the range of 4:30 to 4:45 which would be a big improvement from last year's 4:52. Unfortunately I got really sick two weeks ago, sicker than I've been in years! I called in sick to work for the first time in my working life and actually went to urgent care to get meds. This girl rarely takes ibuprofen so seeking medical advice was an achievement. When it came around to race weekend I wasn't feeling 100% but I was able-bodied enough to run.<br /><br />The weather was perfect on race day with highs forecasted to be in the 60s, but the word was that there was a good bit of snow on the upper part of the course. As we gathered at the starting line my friend, Amanda, and I started chatting and suddenly people started moving. We didn't even have time to get nervous. I tried not to run the first 8 or so miles too fast and saved enough energy to run the relentless uphill dirt road to the turnaround point. I let myself look at my watch for the first time at the turnaround and was excited to see that 2:15 had elapsed... a 10 minute improvement over last year. I figured the snow in the next section would slow me down but would put me on track to finish around 4:45.<br /><br />The turnaround is always the high point of the race for me because you get to see your friends that are within a mile ahead of or behind you. Getting to cheer people on always gives me energy. I think I was within the top 10 women or so but there were a lot of strong-looking women close behind me. I had been using Tailwind and had put down about 300 calories so my energy levels were where they needed to be. I was a little nauseous but after being on antibiotics all week and being at 9,000+ feet for the first time in a while, this was to be expected.<br /><br />After the turnaround the course heads back down just short of a mile and hits another dirt road. This road was super muddy and slushy. I ran this road in a thin layer of snow two years ago and that was definitely easier than these conditions. There was a lot of staring at my feet trying to get good footing and I just got used to following the two girls ahead of me. After trudging on for a bit, the girl ahead of me stops, turns around, and in a panicked voice starts telling me that she hasn't seen the girl ahead of her in a while and that the intersection in front of us didn't have any flags.<br /><br />Sure enough, we were at a Y-intersection with no clear way to go. In denial she starts to insist that there was no way we could have gotten off course and that surely they didn't mark it. She thought we should go right. I knew what she was feeling and I had insisted the same thing at the Dead Horse 50k last fall in Moab. That experience taught me that sometimes you just have to accept that you made a mistake and turn around.<br /><br />We had no idea how far we had come since the last course marking and I was full of hope that we hadn't gone that far and that I had a chance to make up the time by speeding up. Full of panic/rage I started running as fast as I could and stopped drinking or eating. We had come almost 1.5 miles off course for a grand total of 2.5-3 extra miles (out and back) with some decent hills and a good 40 minutes (since we stopped to talk about our options and to pick up another lost girl on our way back).<br /><br />When we saw where we went off, I got angry: angry at myself for getting lost on a course that I've been on TWICE! There were two flags veering off sharply to the side but I had been looking at the ground and the back of the girl in front of me. Since then I've been thinking of all the "if only" scenarios. If only I had been ahead of her I would have been looking around more. If only the flags on the hairpin turn had been in my peripheral. If only there had been someone behind us who would have seen us and called out to us. I could go on forever but when you sign up for a race in the mountains, you sign up for a little bit of route-finding.<br /><br />I was pretty cranky when I considered my options. I could continue on and get in 29 miles and a seemingly slow time or call it a day at the next aid station. I started thinking about a conversation I had with Justin Ricks when he told me about a time he dropped out at a race. When he arrived at the aid station he planned to drop at, the volunteers kept trying to get him going and one volunteered to walk it in with him. But he didn't come to the race to walk it in. He knew he could finish, but he came to win.<br /><br />That line of thinking made sense to me. I didn't come to just slog out the race. I came to get a PR and to be as competitive as possible. After I DNFed my first road marathon, it was really important to me to finish the next trail marathon attempt no matter what. But I've already finished the Run Through Time twice and I didn't have anything to prove to myself just by finishing. After having the flu for the last two weeks it wasn't worth trashing my body early in the season just to have another finish under my belt.<br /><br />After I made the decision to quit I still had another 3-4 miles to the aid station so I chatted with the people around me. They were so encouraging telling me that I looked great and that I should try to finish. I smiled, thanked them, and tried my hardest not to let my negative energy wear off on them. At the aid station, the volunteers told me that I had tons of time before the cut off and I should sit and think about if I really wanted to DNF. Again, I smiled, thanked them, and asked the shortest way to get down the mountain. I walked myself out and got picked up on the jeep road by some nice strangers heading to the finish to cheer on their daughter.<br /><br />The finish line of this race is always fun regardless of if you raced or not. Talking with a lot of friends it seemed that a lot of people either did a double-take at that tricky intersection or went briefly off course themselves. A group of guys did the same thing and back tracked to find Amanda, who thankfully only added about a mile and still managed to take 5th place. At the end of the day, I can only blame myself for not noticing the flags. And that's what kills me the most. I should have known better. I'm trying to take solace in the fact that I got in some speedy miles with lots of gain and ended up with about 25 miles for the day even though they weren't the miles I was supposed to do.<br /><br />Congrats to everyone who toughed it out on a challenging course. And I'm especially proud of my honey who isn't happy with his race but still managed to take 17th place despite being sleep deprived from grad-school midterms and a full-time job.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7UkVCp2DUsU/VQYx1XX05-I/AAAAAAAACEw/kk-y9c4RANI/s1600/IMG_4556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7UkVCp2DUsU/VQYx1XX05-I/AAAAAAAACEw/kk-y9c4RANI/s1600/IMG_4556.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The clouds hid the Collegiates when we came into town on Friday</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8eaOb3nWcBg/VQYw860YDyI/AAAAAAAACEY/92H99ghRk4E/s1600/rtt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8eaOb3nWcBg/VQYw860YDyI/AAAAAAAACEY/92H99ghRk4E/s1600/rtt.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo bombed the Runner's Roost guys photo with Bill Dooper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w8YG-NOBQqs/VQYyPzWrxtI/AAAAAAAACE4/tVYBLrvWGKQ/s1600/IMG_4562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w8YG-NOBQqs/VQYyPzWrxtI/AAAAAAAACE4/tVYBLrvWGKQ/s1600/IMG_4562.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the race we grabbed some Amica's Pizza and headed up S-Mountain for a picnic with a view</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z71vqIes70E/VQYyl11XuwI/AAAAAAAACFA/sRHmNRqEil4/s1600/IMG_4570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z71vqIes70E/VQYyl11XuwI/AAAAAAAACFA/sRHmNRqEil4/s1600/IMG_4570.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The view just before sunrise this morning</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CmVXZCwV46s/VQYxSCaf9UI/AAAAAAAACEg/IVy0mbI0X4Q/s1600/princeton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CmVXZCwV46s/VQYxSCaf9UI/AAAAAAAACEg/IVy0mbI0X4Q/s1600/princeton.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We hiked part of the Mt. Princeton jeep road today before heading home</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-au6jAegc_rQ/VQYxVQ8L1wI/AAAAAAAACEo/iNnf6WvtT_M/s1600/princetonpups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-au6jAegc_rQ/VQYxVQ8L1wI/AAAAAAAACEo/iNnf6WvtT_M/s1600/princetonpups.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory and the pups</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-59510261510518245152015-03-01T14:10:00.001-08:002015-03-01T14:15:30.422-08:00Living the dreamI'm going to be honest. Most of the month of February I feel like this:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1wcp8XJV4Bo/VPN8NuLN8aI/AAAAAAAACAU/vD3hw0oRrFI/s1600/IMG_4351.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1wcp8XJV4Bo/VPN8NuLN8aI/AAAAAAAACAU/vD3hw0oRrFI/s1600/IMG_4351.PNG" height="320" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But a girl's got to function in the world even when the sun isn't shining. The other difficulty I've had with trying to get anything accomplished at home is that any time I sit down this happens:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qv7q5RfVN-4/VPN8tAxOGOI/AAAAAAAACAg/cFCeLzK8c94/s1600/IMG_4360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qv7q5RfVN-4/VPN8tAxOGOI/AAAAAAAACAg/cFCeLzK8c94/s1600/IMG_4360.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or this:</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rdSJsuelDVI/VPN8s_LD1pI/AAAAAAAACAc/do3mktYIN54/s1600/IMG_4391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rdSJsuelDVI/VPN8s_LD1pI/AAAAAAAACAc/do3mktYIN54/s1600/IMG_4391.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Adorable distractions aside, I've gotten pretty good at managing my brain's horrible response to the month of February and I try to think of all the great things that make up the reality of my life. For example, I live in my dream place. I have miles of trails right in my back yard. I have an amazing husband and two adorable dogs. Why should I let the weather get me down when I have the life I've always dreamed of?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A lot of people have commented on pictures that I post on Facebook or on posts I've left on this blog that they wish they lived here or that my life looks awesome. If I know you and you live in another state, chances are I've tried to convince you to move to Colorado. I'm a pretty good sales person. Just ask Cory, if he doesn't agree with me then I won't back down until I've convinced him that I'm right.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We didn't just accidentally end up in Colorado. It wasn't some happy occurrence. We lived in Pittsburgh. We picked up all our stakes and, with help from my parents, moved our possessions to Colorado into an apartment that we had never seen until we moved into it. We were unemployed and had to start from scratch with very few connections. There were times that we were living from paycheck to paycheck. Not a day goes by that I remind myself never to take this place for granted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Moving is hard and I knew the longer we spent time in a place that was not Colorado, the harder it was going to be to pick up and move. I firmly believe that you should not live in a way where you are always waiting for something better to come along. If you want something, take tangible steps to make it happen. It's made me curious what it is that holds people back from achieving the things they want, what keeps them from making their dreams or goals a reality. I genuinely want to know! Please comment, even if you are reading this and I've never met you before.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If there's one thing I've learned while working through Seasonal Affective Disorder it's that having a plan with both short term and long term goals makes every day easier to endure. As you see yourself get closer to where you want to be, it's no longer a matter of endurance, you are able to joyfully relish the last few steps to your finish line.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's some pictures from our winter adventures this last month:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JEQnTNRZVp0/VPOIExV3VSI/AAAAAAAACBE/mIvrHAIg2kY/s1600/IMG_3632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JEQnTNRZVp0/VPOIExV3VSI/AAAAAAAACBE/mIvrHAIg2kY/s1600/IMG_3632.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cadi retrieved multiple deer parts at Mt. Falcon for me</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iyMQHxCK9pA/VPOIBvxXenI/AAAAAAAACA8/i72staoBKnI/s1600/IMG_3638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iyMQHxCK9pA/VPOIBvxXenI/AAAAAAAACA8/i72staoBKnI/s1600/IMG_3638.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We found this fresh mountain lion kill a mile up from the parking lot at Apex</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0mjMAEJM0iM/VPOH4G3v86I/AAAAAAAACA0/tx4HXH9ZN4Q/s1600/IMG_4453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0mjMAEJM0iM/VPOH4G3v86I/AAAAAAAACA0/tx4HXH9ZN4Q/s1600/IMG_4453.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A close up of the mountain lion print... no claw marks and a three-lobed back pad</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9ufCUmOwCqU/VPOIuOrKrJI/AAAAAAAACBM/QaNUbkPndL8/s1600/IMG_3681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9ufCUmOwCqU/VPOIuOrKrJI/AAAAAAAACBM/QaNUbkPndL8/s1600/IMG_3681.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cousin Bailey taking 10th at CC junior nationals in Boulder</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RfVIrc3X_eE/VPOJBpWBLNI/AAAAAAAACBU/6bXqj_ilAl0/s1600/IMG_3752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RfVIrc3X_eE/VPOJBpWBLNI/AAAAAAAACBU/6bXqj_ilAl0/s1600/IMG_3752.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">View of Mt. Evans wilderness from the Chicago Lakes Trail</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ei6VifqIBnY/VPOJN-2EtsI/AAAAAAAACBc/2zyek2-B1Sk/s1600/IMG_3781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ei6VifqIBnY/VPOJN-2EtsI/AAAAAAAACBc/2zyek2-B1Sk/s1600/IMG_3781.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy pups!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eQaNzPHy7Yg/VPOJr2h-xLI/AAAAAAAACBk/6ZrVssX6_5w/s1600/10929975_10153055329307171_9008951200417382844_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eQaNzPHy7Yg/VPOJr2h-xLI/AAAAAAAACBk/6ZrVssX6_5w/s1600/10929975_10153055329307171_9008951200417382844_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Entering Mt. Evans wilderness... did not need the snowshoes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lGuacbtuR-M/VPOKL30YwKI/AAAAAAAACBs/AD2Moj4HU5c/s1600/IMG_3814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lGuacbtuR-M/VPOKL30YwKI/AAAAAAAACBs/AD2Moj4HU5c/s1600/IMG_3814.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A chilly sunset on top of Green Mt before heading to Arizona for my best friend's wedding</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PXXZveyPwdI/VPOKmg-JoZI/AAAAAAAACCE/TM6rTZ_y4J0/s1600/IMG_3851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PXXZveyPwdI/VPOKmg-JoZI/AAAAAAAACCE/TM6rTZ_y4J0/s1600/IMG_3851.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunset run at Pass Mountain with dad</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kBKitPNpS38/VPOKiDHDv_I/AAAAAAAACB0/F9XBS0BoBWU/s1600/IMG_3858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kBKitPNpS38/VPOKiDHDv_I/AAAAAAAACB0/F9XBS0BoBWU/s1600/IMG_3858.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The one bright "star" in the sky is Venus</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T78lXGAjaGI/VPOKlN1tOVI/AAAAAAAACB8/gh1sLt274jo/s1600/IMG_3859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T78lXGAjaGI/VPOKlN1tOVI/AAAAAAAACB8/gh1sLt274jo/s1600/IMG_3859.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise view of Lost Dutchmen from Cat Peaks summit</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2zKDKFbmGFI/VPOLNBc55eI/AAAAAAAACCM/OZxWsFgnb_A/s1600/IMG_3872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2zKDKFbmGFI/VPOLNBc55eI/AAAAAAAACCM/OZxWsFgnb_A/s1600/IMG_3872.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm never wearing booty shorts again... too much wedgie&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eiQygwvM3tw/VPOLh5qMdxI/AAAAAAAACCg/HDDjPSSVKss/s1600/IMG_3887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eiQygwvM3tw/VPOLh5qMdxI/AAAAAAAACCg/HDDjPSSVKss/s1600/IMG_3887.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Playing among the cacti with dad</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A_DPeXFEUJc/VPOLhd92JYI/AAAAAAAACCc/tE4RztSSXz8/s1600/IMG_3883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A_DPeXFEUJc/VPOLhd92JYI/AAAAAAAACCc/tE4RztSSXz8/s1600/IMG_3883.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The dad guy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1comihCRH-8/VPOLVfVA9wI/AAAAAAAACCU/ZntJ4xfkFng/s1600/IMG_3871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1comihCRH-8/VPOLVfVA9wI/AAAAAAAACCU/ZntJ4xfkFng/s1600/IMG_3871.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was talking on my phone in the campground and this rattler jumped out at me</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sITm9UAhrNU/VOqSoGlMtqI/AAAAAAAAB_A/P0BVN2pZ240/s1600/IMG_4277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sITm9UAhrNU/VOqSoGlMtqI/AAAAAAAAB_A/P0BVN2pZ240/s1600/IMG_4277.JPG" height="320" width="236" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Got to take some fun pictures at this couple's wedding!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VcLyw22xu5Y/VPOMadHlNDI/AAAAAAAACC0/0f5KvbMTjEE/s1600/IMG_4401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VcLyw22xu5Y/VPOMadHlNDI/AAAAAAAACC0/0f5KvbMTjEE/s1600/IMG_4401.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla's favorite winter sport is napping&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ol_cznfhsIQ/VPOMZGKLm0I/AAAAAAAACCs/bN6oGLeHT18/s1600/IMG_4414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ol_cznfhsIQ/VPOMZGKLm0I/AAAAAAAACCs/bN6oGLeHT18/s1600/IMG_4414.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cadi's favorite winter sport is being disobedient and feeling no shame</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WL7M515YP2M/VPOMeiok2yI/AAAAAAAACDE/aY-xHLy2R6k/s1600/IMG_4424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WL7M515YP2M/VPOMeiok2yI/AAAAAAAACDE/aY-xHLy2R6k/s1600/IMG_4424.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Family hibernation</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5AdF10YyvzU/VPONJKjky_I/AAAAAAAACDM/P6i6kgFwXlU/s1600/IMG_4451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5AdF10YyvzU/VPONJKjky_I/AAAAAAAACDM/P6i6kgFwXlU/s1600/IMG_4451.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory got some great pictures of me tripping on today's run</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PyeplVO4elM/VPONJrpayEI/AAAAAAAACDU/niiVjwVyBzc/s1600/IMG_4452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PyeplVO4elM/VPONJrpayEI/AAAAAAAACDU/niiVjwVyBzc/s1600/IMG_4452.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is my "I hate the winter" face</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-47799434362666138422015-01-23T08:59:00.001-08:002015-01-23T09:12:22.451-08:00For the JoyI remember reading Killian's book, Run or Die, last year and one particular part has stuck with me. I would quote it directly but I lent the book to a friend, who will remain nameless, who has not returned it (Laura!). Kidding, keep it as long as you need to, Laura. Back on track. The part of the book I remember most is when Killian recalls coming home from a run and recounting the day's adventures to his now ex-girlfriend. As he animatedly wraps up his story and finishes showing off his photos, he asks his lady friend about her adventures and she cries and says that it was wonderful but that there was no way to fully get someone to share in the feeling and thrill of the day.<br /><br />I've felt this feeling so many times. No many how many pictures I share on Facebook, no matter how detailed my blog posts are, even if I personally sit with you and talk about my adventures there is no way to pass on the Joy that I feel when I'm out exploring. At my core, I am a "feeler" and though I can use my words to get others to know things, I'm always caught in a paradox of not feeling understood until someone feels what I am feeling. Getting someone to <i>feel</i>&nbsp;what you feel is very different than getting someone to <i>know</i>&nbsp;how you feel. Some writers have a unique ability to do this. If you don't know what I'm talking about read Jenn Hughes' piece from Trail Runner magazine about the Hardrock 100 <a href="http://www.trailrunnermag.com/races/15-featured-races/1249-my-summer-at-camp-hardrock" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br />Lately I've been unhappy with my blog and I think it's because I've spent so much time writing <i>about</i>&nbsp;things instead of capturing the essence of the thing itself, instead of extracting the emotion I felt in an experience and impressing that feeling upon you, the reader. Normally what happens when I start monologuing about this is I stop right about here and hold the backspace key for a long time. Not this day. I'm no Jenn Hughes, though, so don't expect me to make you feel any great emotion. What I want to do is ask a question. People often ask themselves why they run. Regardless of the details, I think most people run because it gives them a Joy that they are otherwise unable to attain in daily life. The question I've been thinking about is what about running gives you the Joy?<br /><br />The reason I've been mulling over this is because I have a lot of running friends who seem to get frustrated by certain things in their running that are taking away the Joy. For example, Cory has been angry after every run lately because his Garmin is not uploading his run data to Strava. Data can be useful in training and can bring you Joy as you see gains over time, but I had to "ground" myself indefinitely from Strava. If every run wasn't faster than the last or if I didn't get a "Queen of the Mountain," I became dissatisfied with my run. I knew if I was approaching a popular "segment" I would gun it (which is kind of like interval training), but the reason I was doing it was to show others that I was the fastest. Strava was taking away my Joy.<br /><br />On my quest to shed all the things that diminish the Joy, I keep thinking about a blog entry that I wrote around this time last year about sponsorship. I've thought many times over about deleting it because if any sponsor read it, they would incorrectly assume that I never want to be sponsored. But this blog post has been one of my most popular reads and to delete it would be to hide something important that I thought was controversial. If I'm about anything, I'm about authenticity. So it remains... and if you're curious you can read it <a href="http://alrunning.blogspot.com/2014/04/sponsorships-do-you-really-want-it.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br />Now I find myself in a seemingly hypocritical place on the Pearl Izumi Champions Run Team. It's not a sponsorship, it's more of an ambassadorship. I get a pair of free shoes and a singlet and in turn I continue to tell everyone how much I love Pearl Izumi's gear. The reason why I don't feel like a hypocrite is because I was doing these things anyway: complimenting people's PI shoes at races, writing PI shoe reviews on my blog, wearing PI shoes until they were dead, and using my decrepit shoes to pot plants in. This company's gear enhances my Joy so why not get some kickbacks from it and make it official?<br /><br />Have you ever noticed that the harder the thing is, the more Joy you feel in the end? Easy things leave a taste in your mouth like black licorice, not horrible but not exactly satisfying. In search of Joy we went on a little winter running vacation this weekend. We were exhausted before we left and camping with two dogs in our rooftop tent for three days with lows in the teens and highs in the 40s sounded by no means "easy." Somehow we came back more recharged than if we had stayed in our comfortable home doing runs on our backyard mountain. In a futile attempt to share my Joy, here are some pictures.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pFtefZIPtjE/VMJ7PWg-ooI/AAAAAAAAB0w/uwWiUKF6KK0/s1600/IMG_3304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pFtefZIPtjE/VMJ7PWg-ooI/AAAAAAAAB0w/uwWiUKF6KK0/s1600/IMG_3304.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">At Kenosha Pass</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xO338g0QrG0/VMJ7PHz2A1I/AAAAAAAAB0s/j11a4ydl1L8/s1600/IMG_3312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xO338g0QrG0/VMJ7PHz2A1I/AAAAAAAAB0s/j11a4ydl1L8/s1600/IMG_3312.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">South Park puppy pick-up</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p738TdlRSAg/VMJ7QMgmX_I/AAAAAAAAB08/a-OkD_rCGTg/s1600/IMG_3321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p738TdlRSAg/VMJ7QMgmX_I/AAAAAAAAB08/a-OkD_rCGTg/s1600/IMG_3321.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Old girl still has the moves</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aZrGafhpT4s/VMJ7UHrrRfI/AAAAAAAAB1E/Qv4SOwTu08U/s1600/IMG_3326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aZrGafhpT4s/VMJ7UHrrRfI/AAAAAAAAB1E/Qv4SOwTu08U/s1600/IMG_3326.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Chalk cliffs on the way to Salida</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EkilYkqN9ds/VMJ7Yr6Cy0I/AAAAAAAAB1M/JMPr3aAJuJM/s1600/IMG_3331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EkilYkqN9ds/VMJ7Yr6Cy0I/AAAAAAAAB1M/JMPr3aAJuJM/s1600/IMG_3331.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Salida Sunset</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lDOzoGkTxFE/VMJ8AujMjsI/AAAAAAAAB1U/sXwH-50R6y0/s1600/IMG_3337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lDOzoGkTxFE/VMJ8AujMjsI/AAAAAAAAB1U/sXwH-50R6y0/s1600/IMG_3337.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The view from our tent</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vbauOrrvUlU/VMJzPdv-lWI/AAAAAAAAByU/LRLJ5o_Fe7c/s1600/IMG_3339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vbauOrrvUlU/VMJzPdv-lWI/AAAAAAAAByU/LRLJ5o_Fe7c/s1600/IMG_3339.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Plenty of room in this tent</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OgZ2JHa7CJA/VMJzVGsJ6AI/AAAAAAAAByg/6gdMM1a3LKs/s1600/IMG_3353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OgZ2JHa7CJA/VMJzVGsJ6AI/AAAAAAAAByg/6gdMM1a3LKs/s1600/IMG_3353.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On the Rainbow Trail</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qKPAILutKFk/VMJzUykxXdI/AAAAAAAAByc/76BFsW-eFy0/s1600/IMG_3361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qKPAILutKFk/VMJzUykxXdI/AAAAAAAAByc/76BFsW-eFy0/s1600/IMG_3361.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Little pup tries to herd me</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qzz0fPuFrVI/VMJzl_uB3II/AAAAAAAABys/xtqVUHnNpbA/s1600/IMG_3366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qzz0fPuFrVI/VMJzl_uB3II/AAAAAAAABys/xtqVUHnNpbA/s1600/IMG_3366.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Got snowed out just a mile further up</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_4_iay8Sez4/VMJzoBgkW8I/AAAAAAAABy0/5PzEVcCv5i8/s1600/IMG_3369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_4_iay8Sez4/VMJzoBgkW8I/AAAAAAAABy0/5PzEVcCv5i8/s1600/IMG_3369.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dry trails in Salida</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UhOBVNdAFqw/VMJ0G1t52zI/AAAAAAAABzE/tmEPwryecDo/s1600/IMG_3376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UhOBVNdAFqw/VMJ0G1t52zI/AAAAAAAABzE/tmEPwryecDo/s1600/IMG_3376.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sweet Collegiates</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cLbMmkbefg4/VMJ0Dd0rjeI/AAAAAAAABy8/9RScVncuQ4s/s1600/IMG_3377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cLbMmkbefg4/VMJ0Dd0rjeI/AAAAAAAABy8/9RScVncuQ4s/s1600/IMG_3377.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chXImOKFfIk/VMJ0GwMtR8I/AAAAAAAABzI/JFAcwqOGvwA/s1600/IMG_3387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chXImOKFfIk/VMJ0GwMtR8I/AAAAAAAABzI/JFAcwqOGvwA/s1600/IMG_3387.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lots of snow in Leadville</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CQm7Eqpcz0k/VMJ0LhuK6xI/AAAAAAAABzU/jlANSG4bLYc/s1600/IMG_3413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CQm7Eqpcz0k/VMJ0LhuK6xI/AAAAAAAABzU/jlANSG4bLYc/s1600/IMG_3413.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Running around Turquoise Lake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1nSbhpdVGJA/VMJ516xoxSI/AAAAAAAAB0E/VZB-bW7vIeE/s1600/IMG_3423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1nSbhpdVGJA/VMJ516xoxSI/AAAAAAAAB0E/VZB-bW7vIeE/s1600/IMG_3423.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2JkdkGuSTgs/VMJ53JDsZPI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/BDR_CIMAwcU/s1600/IMG_3424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2JkdkGuSTgs/VMJ53JDsZPI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/BDR_CIMAwcU/s1600/IMG_3424.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d68f2BR3MLs/VMJ52xASi1I/AAAAAAAAB0M/8EQD4jELqNc/s1600/IMG_3425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d68f2BR3MLs/VMJ52xASi1I/AAAAAAAAB0M/8EQD4jELqNc/s1600/IMG_3425.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kO4aErIqCA8/VMJ561KNVEI/AAAAAAAAB0c/TQHJ3plX06Q/s1600/IMG_3427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kO4aErIqCA8/VMJ561KNVEI/AAAAAAAAB0c/TQHJ3plX06Q/s1600/IMG_3427.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q0QKltrHnVU/VMJ5-AG-K_I/AAAAAAAAB0k/ZHSV3TCwFqo/s1600/IMG_3430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q0QKltrHnVU/VMJ5-AG-K_I/AAAAAAAAB0k/ZHSV3TCwFqo/s1600/IMG_3430.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Joy?</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPehPM9e4fA/VMJ0M2otEAI/AAAAAAAABzc/MgvE0KTxrYI/s1600/IMG_3415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPehPM9e4fA/VMJ0M2otEAI/AAAAAAAABzc/MgvE0KTxrYI/s1600/IMG_3415.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ave_cFy7Vg0/VMJ0kS-wtlI/AAAAAAAABzk/cP09Vhm75Rs/s1600/IMG_3433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ave_cFy7Vg0/VMJ0kS-wtlI/AAAAAAAABzk/cP09Vhm75Rs/s1600/IMG_3433.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A8bMg-kzc/VMJ0kzXiEXI/AAAAAAAABzo/EncHyqlEwxs/s1600/IMG_3447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q6A8bMg-kzc/VMJ0kzXiEXI/AAAAAAAABzo/EncHyqlEwxs/s1600/IMG_3447.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Closest thing I have to digitally capturing the Joy</div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-27845475747305801932015-01-14T10:47:00.000-08:002015-01-14T10:47:17.717-08:00Happy New YearI'm not sure how what started out as a once a week blog has degraded into a once a month blog. As I was talking to my dad, the wise one, on the phone yesterday he said that I need to write a new blog post, and he's right. I have a whole bevy of excuses for why I haven't written and they are pretty good excuses. But I woke up early, got my run done, and now I'm going to try to quiet this restless brain and spew some thoughts on the page before work.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7ltuwLWhdk/VLapcV4x7GI/AAAAAAAABuI/wQ2OjvA0GGg/s1600/Cadi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7ltuwLWhdk/VLapcV4x7GI/AAAAAAAABuI/wQ2OjvA0GGg/s1600/Cadi.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The picture above features my number one excuse for not writing. We got a puppy! We named her Acadia after the National Park we visited on our honeymoon, but we just call her Cadi. We have been told she is about a year old, but behavior-wise she has needed a lot of work. It's taken a full week but now she doesn't go to the bathroom in the house and she finally knows how to sit. She is a ball of energy and will try to eat the iPhone out of my hand so that I will pay attention to her. The trade-off for her rascally ways is that she is a trail-running phenom. She bounds ahead always staying within sight, she doesn't bark at other dogs (she actually tries to avoid them), and she has enough to endurance to go many miles. So far her longest run has been 7.5 miles but we don't want to push her too soon. Needless to say I'm exhausted but it is kind of nice having an adorable alarm clock to wake me up to run at 5am. Mayla seems relieved that we don't try to make her run anymore in her old age.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xa_B3qNorU4/VLarmRn1qyI/AAAAAAAABuU/TbZ3VrQIqHA/s1600/sleepy%2Bpuppies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xa_B3qNorU4/VLarmRn1qyI/AAAAAAAABuU/TbZ3VrQIqHA/s1600/sleepy%2Bpuppies.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Old pup and young pup napping together</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If I'm honest with myself, my main excuse is that I don't like how my blog has become all race reports and none of the deep, thoughtful things I used to write about. Back when my blog got only a few views a day I felt like I could empty my brain out because, lets face it, those views were probably my mom and dad. Now I get a lot more viewers checking out race reports and gear reviews, which is super exciting, but I feel less inclined to share the things I'm really thinking about.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lets face it, if you know me at all or if you regularly read this blog, you know that I really struggle in the winter with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Living in Colorado has greatly eased the symptoms that I experienced when I lived in Wisconsin, but I've come to develop a coping mechanism that includes just not let myself think about things. If I'm feeling down, stop thinking about it. If I want to quit my job and be a puppy shepherd, just go for a run and deafen the thoughts with my iPod. I know the feelings will pass. When you feel the downward spiral begin all you can do is dig your feet in and refuse to be sucked down.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Depression is like that scene in the Princess Bride where they are walking through the fire swamp and Princess Buttercup gets pulled into the quicksand. I'm just going to assume you all have seen the Princess Bride because if not, what the hell have you been doing with your life?! Anyway, the princess is walking along and falls in and Wesley immediately grabs a vine and dives in to save her. They come clawing their way out gasping for air, obviously relieved and astonished just to be alive. That's what it feels like trying to return to the land of the living after going through depression. And you learn, wouldn't it just be easier to avoid the quicksand?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So what does this mean? It means that in the winter, I'm not running races and I'm not thinking things. I'm thinking: breakfast, run, second breakfast, work, puppies!, dinner, walk, bed. Doesn't make a very interesting blog post does it? So what's going to be on this blog the next month or two. Damn sure it's going to be pictures of puppies and nature.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One big piece of news is that I got selected to be on the Pearl Izumi Champions Run Team for next year! Basically not much will change. I'll still be evangelical about how much I love their shoes. But now I'll be using a lot more hashtags and I'll have a sweet singlet to wear at races.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As promised, pictures of puppies and trails:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wrG5vBAww8w/VLaz0ako7fI/AAAAAAAABvE/4tWk8DJFCDQ/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wrG5vBAww8w/VLaz0ako7fI/AAAAAAAABvE/4tWk8DJFCDQ/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fog above Green Mountain and Dino Ridge</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bIho8HKTWs/VLaz2wVNbvI/AAAAAAAABvM/SFOCgd_TDHA/s1600/IMG_2696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bIho8HKTWs/VLaz2wVNbvI/AAAAAAAABvM/SFOCgd_TDHA/s1600/IMG_2696.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A glorious morning on Mt. Morrison</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4KBt-4sfUk0/VLa0DI398nI/AAAAAAAABvk/w1T6Cf7WNzE/s1600/IMG_2702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4KBt-4sfUk0/VLa0DI398nI/AAAAAAAABvk/w1T6Cf7WNzE/s1600/IMG_2702.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory the cloud walker</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RAcEqhdBgP4/VLaz8QQjjmI/AAAAAAAABvY/dukQUHV79Rw/s1600/IMG_2853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RAcEqhdBgP4/VLaz8QQjjmI/AAAAAAAABvY/dukQUHV79Rw/s1600/IMG_2853.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We dog-sat this guy, Jack, who convinced Cory that it would be ok to get another dog</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cdrtsz6YdKY/VLaz8fvUzeI/AAAAAAAABvU/WO-eWCLM94A/s1600/IMG_2900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cdrtsz6YdKY/VLaz8fvUzeI/AAAAAAAABvU/WO-eWCLM94A/s1600/IMG_2900.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla got really excited about Christmas</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xnns2EZMR7Q/VLa0E6l6KiI/AAAAAAAABvs/37iKpQscz_Q/s1600/IMG_2901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xnns2EZMR7Q/VLa0E6l6KiI/AAAAAAAABvs/37iKpQscz_Q/s1600/IMG_2901.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She was really not excited about her antlers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0wtm5IUNPvs/VLa0Jay4KeI/AAAAAAAABv0/z_be0SzQwys/s1600/IMG_2930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0wtm5IUNPvs/VLa0Jay4KeI/AAAAAAAABv0/z_be0SzQwys/s1600/IMG_2930.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla came to visit at the bank a lot</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-60zfdo7SwaA/VLazmf9xxFI/AAAAAAAABu0/HpABaZnGdFw/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-60zfdo7SwaA/VLazmf9xxFI/AAAAAAAABu0/HpABaZnGdFw/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And missed a lot of balls</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nFgbiYfblg4/VLa0Oa0-PVI/AAAAAAAABv8/Iewpo4BKIAg/s1600/IMG_3137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nFgbiYfblg4/VLa0Oa0-PVI/AAAAAAAABv8/Iewpo4BKIAg/s1600/IMG_3137.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We had some below zero days... nbd if we were in Wisconsin but we ARE NOT!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-goOeorUps2A/VLa0T3xxbVI/AAAAAAAABwE/1BIgTHf3EBY/s1600/IMG_3146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-goOeorUps2A/VLa0T3xxbVI/AAAAAAAABwE/1BIgTHf3EBY/s1600/IMG_3146.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Someone told me on Facebook that I should have run through the Mines of Moria instead</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rULl8hcTdG0/VLa0aznU3MI/AAAAAAAABwM/oW66VhZ5iV0/s1600/IMG_3153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rULl8hcTdG0/VLa0aznU3MI/AAAAAAAABwM/oW66VhZ5iV0/s1600/IMG_3153.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We met the new puppy and, to Mayla's dismay, we took her home</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pjoe7Oe9lks/VLa08R7q3tI/AAAAAAAABw8/ILUyvb_BT80/s1600/IMG_3235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pjoe7Oe9lks/VLa08R7q3tI/AAAAAAAABw8/ILUyvb_BT80/s1600/IMG_3235.JPG" height="247" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Acadia wants you to know that I got on the Pearl Izumi team and that their shoes taste good</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sIWH_n2QSP0/VLa0dqnsgTI/AAAAAAAABwU/5b_45FofQO4/s1600/IMG_3218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sIWH_n2QSP0/VLa0dqnsgTI/AAAAAAAABwU/5b_45FofQO4/s1600/IMG_3218.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Someone appreciates the sun as much as I do</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QrZ3yVo2KwA/VLa0fZt4NJI/AAAAAAAABwc/rfgQvWdFTnQ/s1600/IMG_3224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QrZ3yVo2KwA/VLa0fZt4NJI/AAAAAAAABwc/rfgQvWdFTnQ/s1600/IMG_3224.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This face!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QnTIrtccfxk/VLa1SSi3YXI/AAAAAAAABxc/qcsZ8O5rjMw/s1600/IMG_3259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QnTIrtccfxk/VLa1SSi3YXI/AAAAAAAABxc/qcsZ8O5rjMw/s1600/IMG_3259.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This morning on Green Mountain</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4qRZCHryTA/VLa1YX-28oI/AAAAAAAABxk/eOZir-KgEc0/s1600/IMG_3272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4qRZCHryTA/VLa1YX-28oI/AAAAAAAABxk/eOZir-KgEc0/s1600/IMG_3272.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Trail dog</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2vs3-QFuqcY/VLa0sY-nhrI/AAAAAAAABwk/AttBLF7CkR8/s1600/IMG_3276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2vs3-QFuqcY/VLa0sY-nhrI/AAAAAAAABwk/AttBLF7CkR8/s1600/IMG_3276.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cadi went to check out the coyote poo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_KzaASnQRKs/VLa03hXRedI/AAAAAAAABw0/FA73wHpEYl4/s1600/IMG_3279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_KzaASnQRKs/VLa03hXRedI/AAAAAAAABw0/FA73wHpEYl4/s1600/IMG_3279.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I can't stop taking pictures</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KGDjft3Yzaw/VLa09qJsWdI/AAAAAAAABxE/hAXTZeunzMY/s1600/IMG_3281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KGDjft3Yzaw/VLa09qJsWdI/AAAAAAAABxE/hAXTZeunzMY/s1600/IMG_3281.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ok winter, I guess you are pretty</div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-23796444096037882192014-12-13T16:39:00.003-08:002014-12-13T16:39:47.545-08:00Wrapping up one season and dreaming about the nextI have been trying to rest the last three weeks. Keyword: Trying. With restless legs I have been sitting at the computer looking at race websites, Youtube videos of different courses, our bank account, and the calendar trying to figure out how to fit in all the adventures we want to do next year. The hard thing about being married to a runner is that you each have your separate running goals and dreams and sometimes they clash with each other. Sometimes we want to do different races that fall on the same date or we have different ideas about how we should allot our time off or our money.<br /><br />2014 was a pretty good year for me and I saw a lot of improvement. In 2013 I did 8 races (including one DNF) and only one of them was an ultra. In 2014 I did 8 races (including one unofficial finish because I got lost) and 5 of those races were ultras. Of those five ultras I won two of them. The races that I won were not very competitive but at least I know what it feels like to win now (it feels good btw) and now I want to try to use that edge to push harder at some more competitive events next year. I was looking back at an old blog post that I wrote before my first ultra and I wrote that I felt I shouldn't run the uphills because it might make me burn out by the end. What a joke!<br /><br />When I look at the areas I could improve on, the main one would be keeping the nutrition INSIDE my body. There was a lot of throwing up in 2014. I learned that I am a zombie above 12,500 ft. Also I learned that not sleeping = lots of puking. Both times I crewed Cory and ran with him through the night, I could not keep my stomach under control. Because I like to torment myself, this leaves me with two options for next year, run my first 100 mile race and master the night pukes or run the US Skyrunning Series and master the altitude pukes.<br /><br />I've been debating a lot about which is the most noble pursuit. At first I was really leaning towards running my first 100-miler. Being part of the endless parade of headlamps while pacing Cory at Run Rabbit Run was surreal. While Cory groaned and cussed his way into the finish I kept choking on my tears and also the six minute mile pace. I felt so overcome with emotion about what the human body, specifically my husband's body, could do and immediately I wanted to find out if this body of mine was able to run that far.<br /><br />There is also the matter of babies. Realistically, we only have 2 to 4 more summers before we start trying to have a family. I fully intend to be a mountain running mama but life is going to be different. I won't get to enjoy 8 uninterrupted hours of sleep. I won't get to selfishly hole myself up in the winter when Seasonal Affective Disorder messes with my brain. I won't get to take off for hours in the mountains until I've got child care lined up. Cory and I won't be able to camp every weekend and live out of our car in the summer. Knowing these things helps me prioritize what I want to do now.<br /><br />Running 100 miles: It can wait until summer 2016. When I think about my favorite adventures from last year, they were running high alpine routes in Indian Peaks and Rocky Mountain National Park. We didn't get to do many of those this last year because we were so focused on putting in a certain number of miles and, honestly, because we didn't make it a priority. It only makes sense that if we are going to focus on exploring more above treeline next year that we do some Skyrunning races along the way. We don't have the money to travel abroad but we have a great camp set-up for traveling in the U.S. I'm planning to do the ultra series and Cory is planning to do the sky series.<br /><br />So here's the tentative races schedule for 2015:<br /><br />Salida Run Through Time Marathon (March) - Allisa and Cory<br />Golden Gate Dirty 30 (May) - Allisa<br />San Juan Solstice 50 mile (June) - Allisa and Cory<br />Kendall Mountain Run (July) - Cory<br />Aspen Power of Four 50k (July) - Allisa<br />Ouray 100 (August) - Cory<br />The Rut 50k (September) - Allisa and Cory<br />Flagstaff Sky Race (October) - Allisa and Cory<br /><br />We also want to throw in some adventure runs we've been researching. There's a great loop in the Sangres that we've attempted a few times. Last time I threw up a few times and we had to turn back - big surprise. The Gore Range Trail is a 50 mile trail here in CO that looks pretty cool. Cory wants to do more of the Colorado Trail. We want to do the Pawnee/Buchanan loop and the Maroon Bells loop. I want the do the High Lonesome loop faster and also do the loop in RMNP again when there isn't snow and 50 mph winds. The options are endless!<br /><br />Of course things always change and I usually like to throw in a few last minute races, but I'm really excited about this plan. Sometimes just having a plan, having things to look forward to, helps to push through the winter blues. I still feel really eager to try at the 100 mile distance but I don't think anyone regrets getting stronger before trying to go farther.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sEdgKbxc2Lc/VAH5Im4NsVI/AAAAAAAABhE/Jk8ky1GLC1s/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sEdgKbxc2Lc/VAH5Im4NsVI/AAAAAAAABhE/Jk8ky1GLC1s/s1600/photo%2B2%2B%2825%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our sweet setup, but now we have a 4WD vehicle.</div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x68ySTSt3Aw/T-24_nnvO0I/AAAAAAAAAEk/k7JHacAb5G4/s1600/039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x68ySTSt3Aw/T-24_nnvO0I/AAAAAAAAAEk/k7JHacAb5G4/s1600/039.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Venable Lakes trail in the Sangres... part of a loop we want to do.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vVV4wmkzl-I/U_KLYFVf0rI/AAAAAAAABf0/LbBSWHWkYqk/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(8).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vVV4wmkzl-I/U_KLYFVf0rI/AAAAAAAABf0/LbBSWHWkYqk/s1600/photo%2B5%2B%288%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Trails and flowers in Aspen where the Power of 4 50k is.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqHCNwwEDY/U_KCv4MKAOI/AAAAAAAABd4/t7UB_sbJutQ/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqHCNwwEDY/U_KCv4MKAOI/AAAAAAAABd4/t7UB_sbJutQ/s1600/photo%2B5%2B%2811%29.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I want more views like this (Cory's birthday hike in Indian Peaks)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-65876778974660465542014-11-18T15:44:00.000-08:002014-11-18T15:44:18.181-08:00Pass Mountain 50kAfter the Dead Horse 50k in October I thought my season was done. At least that was the plan. My dad and I were talking on the phone one evening and he asked if there was any possibility that I could make it out to Mesa, Arizona to run a race with him in November. I told him there was zero possibility. I was scheduled to work at the bank that entire weekend and the plane tickets were too expensive. Fortunately at that point I was being honest because I'm a really bad liar.<br /><br />A few nights later I was trying to fall asleep and it dawned on me that the weekend of the race was also the weekend of his 60th birthday. The race was also one we had talked about doing for years. My dad camps at Usery Mountain State Park for a combined total of about 2 months every year and every time I visit him we run the mountain and talk about how fun it would be to do the race some day. I opened up my computer to see that flight prices had gone down. Now the hard part: getting off of work.<br /><br />My boss was annoyed but made it happen and I got my mom in on the secret to surprise my dad. Things ballooned from there. To make a long story short, my mom decided to fly out from Wisconsin and surprise him at the finish line and eventually I decided that the man hates surprises so I caved and told him that I was coming. He got me at the airport and we camped at the park the night before the race. I was signed up for the 25k but was waffling about switching to the 50k.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I7c9K21Y7BM/VGvXJXZejZI/AAAAAAAABtE/kbhHQM8MmzM/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I7c9K21Y7BM/VGvXJXZejZI/AAAAAAAABtE/kbhHQM8MmzM/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(11).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sun comes up</div><br />Race morning came and I decided to switch to the 50k. The sun rose and we were off. I knew that the most challenging part for me would be to pace myself in the first flat miles. A lot of the girls looked intense but I thought I had a shot at winning. I wasn't pushing the pace too hard but I led from the get go. The first mile ticked by at 7:15 pace and the first 5k was all under 8 minute pace. It was just so smooth and non-technical. The sand was the only thing to slow us down.<br /><br />Somewhere near the first aid station another woman caught up to me. I wanted someone to talk to and sometimes I feel like if you talk to your competition and get to know them it doesn't hurt so bad if they beat you in the end. Her name was Tiffany and she owns a running store in Illinois. She was fresh off the Chicago marathon and she looked like a road runner. I really enjoyed chatting with her for the next three or four miles and it helped take my mind off the pace. I knew she had the training advantage on the flats but we hadn't gotten to anything technical or hilly yet.<br /><br />Finally after the Meridian Aid Station things started to get more technical and rocky. I tucked in behind Tiffany on the climb up Pass Mountain and we ran the whole thing. She mentioned that this was her first ultra and finally near the top of the pass I asked her if she had drank or ate at all. She had just blown through the aid stations and had only two small bottles attached to her waist belt. She said she had recently taken a sip of water. I was worried about her but I didn't want to tell her what to do. I had already drank two bottles and taken two gels. I knew the day was going to heat up and once it got hot, we were all going to struggle to put calories down.<br /><br />I passed Tiffany near the top and ended up taking on the rolling descent with a group of guys. We ended up in a train that was moving a little slower than I wanted but I thought it would be better to be conservative. At that point I was getting warm and I was not looking forward to running that flat section again. The course does the same loop twice.<br /><br />When we came into the start/finish area, it was nice to be energized by the crowd. I had been daydreaming about watermelon for the last two miles and I was pleasantly surprised that they had some! When I left the aid station, Tiffany still had not come in yet, so I made it my goal to hold her off or, if she passed me, to at least keep up with her through the flat section up to the Meridian Aid Station. Unfortunately I started to have my typical GI issues throughout the next 6 miles even though I had taken Imodium. It was nothing new for me so I tried not to let it get me down... there were plenty of bushes to hide in. It was also getting really hot and I was dousing myself with ice water constantly. Maybe it wasn't hot to the natives from Arizona, but it was only 20 degrees when I left Colorado.<br /><br />When I made it to the Meridian Aid Station the second time, Tiffany came in as I was leaving. Just what I thought would happen. Unless she had a second wind, I knew I had her on the technical sections. As I climbed up Pass Mountain again I kept looking behind me to see if she was there and I couldn't see a soul. I was totally alone these last few miles except for a non-racer who was out for a sprightly run. He tried to chat with me but I could not keep up with his fresh legs. I was running most of the ups but walking the really rocky sections that I had bounded up earlier in the day. At a few places I questioned if I was on the right trail even though I know this climb like the back of my hand. It made me realize how fatigue can mess with your mind and your ability to judge correctly.<br /><br />As I started the descent, I noticed the clouds had cleared and there was finally a good view of Four Peaks. I love this side of the mountain, running in its shadow alone with the Saguaros and the occasional snake. I was fairly confident I had it from here. I had one more bout of GI distress but I knew I was only a 5k away from winning. I contemplated taking another gel because I was starting to feel woozy but it was just too hot to digest anything. I powered it in and got it done.<br /><br />As I neared the finish line I heard a unmistakable screaming voice: mom. She was jumping around at the finish line and I realized she has never gotten to see me run an ultra. I was so grateful that everything came together and that my family was able to enjoy the weekend together in a place that is so special to us. For a man that hates surprises I think my dad was pretty happy with the way his birthday turned out.<br /><br />It was great to finally check this race off the list. I ended up 1st woman and 8th person overall in a time of 5:41:36. Aravaipa puts on such great races with a fun crew and well-run aid stations.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SGmnNrSsMFU/VGvXDOkmkhI/AAAAAAAABsk/LV_xRCVYhoI/s1600/photo%2B1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SGmnNrSsMFU/VGvXDOkmkhI/AAAAAAAABsk/LV_xRCVYhoI/s1600/photo%2B1.PNG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finish line kick</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FfIsnp-9IpI/VGvXHfP5-pI/AAAAAAAABs8/re9e5h7HL4U/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FfIsnp-9IpI/VGvXHfP5-pI/AAAAAAAABs8/re9e5h7HL4U/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy birthday to Barth dad</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HMXNXj4698A/VGvXEiPI8kI/AAAAAAAABsw/LNoGeKUyRVM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HMXNXj4698A/VGvXEiPI8kI/AAAAAAAABsw/LNoGeKUyRVM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(16).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With Tiffany who came in 2nd place</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_f8sl6lHNmE/VGvXEPf6oPI/AAAAAAAABss/fH28a3mwZPI/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_f8sl6lHNmE/VGvXEPf6oPI/AAAAAAAABss/fH28a3mwZPI/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(19).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With Mike Ambrose, first place guy, holding our creepy awards</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-49644675662855007222014-10-27T20:11:00.000-07:002014-10-27T20:11:06.866-07:00RMNP LoopBecause last weekend's 34 mile near-death experience (kidding... kind of) wasn't enough, we had to get in another near-deather before the mountains are closed for the winter. In the summer of 2009 we did a 4 day backpacking trip in RMNP and it was the most beautiful trip we had ever been on. We parked at the North Inlet TH and headed up that trail. The loop goes up to Flattop Mountain and comes down the Tonahutu Creek Trail through various meadows. We thought the loop was roughly 23 miles so we decided to run the whole thing this last Sunday.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8KQ2RL2F8HQ/VE6fbxjvXRI/AAAAAAAABn0/j0ZsyZMrcWI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8KQ2RL2F8HQ/VE6fbxjvXRI/AAAAAAAABn0/j0ZsyZMrcWI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise as we come down from Berthoud Pass</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QP6WUqgAALY/VE6fjK9lnRI/AAAAAAAABoE/wG_b1o4Z4wI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QP6WUqgAALY/VE6fjK9lnRI/AAAAAAAABoE/wG_b1o4Z4wI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(14).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Early morning rays at Granby</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We parked at the North Inlet TH again and put our layers on. It was a cold morning and we knew there would be 1-2 foot snowdrifts above treeline. What we weren't prepared for was the wind. We quickly warmed up on the climb up the North Inlet Trail and we filtered water at the July campsite just below treeline. We could hear the wind pushing through the tops of the trees and decided to put our shells on just after treeline.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-43oPIsJjEEU/VE6f8DEhYQI/AAAAAAAABos/92wddVAS2pY/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-43oPIsJjEEU/VE6f8DEhYQI/AAAAAAAABos/92wddVAS2pY/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(15).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I had a hard time trying to keep up with this guy</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UDXqEsQHLEc/VE6fvAAtq0I/AAAAAAAABoU/uoBM4Th7xow/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UDXqEsQHLEc/VE6fvAAtq0I/AAAAAAAABoU/uoBM4Th7xow/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Views from the N. Inlet Trail</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DXb1sFtwiek/VE6gL5p4TVI/AAAAAAAABpE/FC5IDQodtvI/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DXb1sFtwiek/VE6gL5p4TVI/AAAAAAAABpE/FC5IDQodtvI/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(12).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">July backcountry site just before treeline&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UNfGrQpGFXA/VE7mlDP6DTI/AAAAAAAABq4/PK3Z6hBLdh4/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UNfGrQpGFXA/VE7mlDP6DTI/AAAAAAAABq4/PK3Z6hBLdh4/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(13).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Starting to feel those ferocious winds</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CRPg_7ZXI5c/VE7mkbJKCaI/AAAAAAAABq0/JLxTwuDjloQ/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CRPg_7ZXI5c/VE7mkbJKCaI/AAAAAAAABq0/JLxTwuDjloQ/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(18).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The bighorn sheep don't seem to mind the cold</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LZOrXl2ZZpo/VE7nDRab5CI/AAAAAAAABrs/DN-NxTckdqc/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LZOrXl2ZZpo/VE7nDRab5CI/AAAAAAAABrs/DN-NxTckdqc/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(10).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They've got pretty good camouflage</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EvfkNqA1G4M/VE7mwqIHlkI/AAAAAAAABrU/-I8qo6SuDVM/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EvfkNqA1G4M/VE7mwqIHlkI/AAAAAAAABrU/-I8qo6SuDVM/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(13).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last picture before we hit the rough stuff</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ie2U1-5RJU8/VE7m-tHFMuI/AAAAAAAABrk/ng6hgzxAtV0/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ie2U1-5RJU8/VE7m-tHFMuI/AAAAAAAABrk/ng6hgzxAtV0/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I didn't know what I was about to get myself into</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As we got nearer to Flattop Mountain, the drifts got higher and the wind got fiercer. We were getting dangerously cold and I started to lose feeling in my toes and fingers. We had forgotten how many miles of this loop were above treeline, but we had figured we would be moving fast enough to stay warm. The crappy, icy snow slowed us down and we started to get really worried. I never thought we were going to die but there was zero margin for error. It was too cold to stop to eat or drink and I was starting to fall behind. Cory literally started pushing me from behind in some places just to keep me moving. I twisted my ankle pretty badly in the snow but it was too cold to feel the pain at that point.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bEC9QMDSXbU/VE7nIUa3nqI/AAAAAAAABr0/7AjtAz8t0Bw/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(8).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bEC9QMDSXbU/VE7nIUa3nqI/AAAAAAAABr0/7AjtAz8t0Bw/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(8).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory thought this was not the time to be taking a picture</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Uu-o20W-qw/VE7moaaYJ3I/AAAAAAAABrE/4gVV2Dgzqf4/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Uu-o20W-qw/VE7moaaYJ3I/AAAAAAAABrE/4gVV2Dgzqf4/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(12).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thankful to be alive</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KwOyrEzcksM/VE7me973y1I/AAAAAAAABqo/O5_MoXYHODk/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KwOyrEzcksM/VE7me973y1I/AAAAAAAABqo/O5_MoXYHODk/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Never have trees looked so welcoming</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we finally got to tree line we had to take a moment to emotionally collect ourselves. There was a lot of hugging and proclaiming of "I'm glad we're alive!" The Tonahutu Creek Trail is beautiful and much more gradual of a descent than N. Inlet, but my ankle was killing me and we still had a lot of miles left. The stress of dealing with the snow and wind on the ridge had taken a lot out of us. We decided to just take it slow and enjoy the scenery.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-elOcHQP4W2o/VE7md8LmqMI/AAAAAAAABqc/4KX3FJrJN0Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-elOcHQP4W2o/VE7md8LmqMI/AAAAAAAABqc/4KX3FJrJN0Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(17).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xts186rM76s/VE7mpwZnXxI/AAAAAAAABrM/Q5uNL6f4ocI/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xts186rM76s/VE7mpwZnXxI/AAAAAAAABrM/Q5uNL6f4ocI/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(14).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tonahutu Meadows was our favorite camp site during our backpacking trip in 2009. I remember sitting on a big rock with Cory while cooking pancakes for our group. As we enjoyed the early morning sun, two runners came blazing down the trail. At that point neither of us had even done a marathon and so we were pretty impressed by this trail running couple and talked about one day being able to run the loop. To this day we still can't figure out where they came from. It was only 6am and they were running down the trail back towards the Tonahutu TH with hardly any gear. They would have had to start the trail in the night! I guess it will always be a mystery. Sadly, the pine forest across the meadow was badly burned during a fire in 2013 as you can see in the above pictures.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k7JVrUvCTYs/VE7nOk80GOI/AAAAAAAABr8/7jmoipGRRAY/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k7JVrUvCTYs/VE7nOk80GOI/AAAAAAAABr8/7jmoipGRRAY/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(9).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We stopped again to filter some more water</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o9Qg4Ehflq0/VE7m0LXQQaI/AAAAAAAABrc/oFWx7a6zML8/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o9Qg4Ehflq0/VE7m0LXQQaI/AAAAAAAABrc/oFWx7a6zML8/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(14).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Granite Falls</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GczekAXinM/VE7mer_XxeI/AAAAAAAABqg/LXIYvabQOhI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GczekAXinM/VE7mer_XxeI/AAAAAAAABqg/LXIYvabQOhI/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(17).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Big Meadows</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By the time we hit Big Meadows we were wiped out. 5 years ago at this spot Cory told me his master plan for dating me. I pretty much knew at that moment that he wanted to marry me. We had a few moments of nostalgia, but we were ready to be done with this run. We had forgotten how long it was from Big Meadow back to the trailhead. The whole loop ended up being 26.4 miles and it took us almost 8 hours. We could have gone a lot faster but we weren't pushing the pace at all. <br />We spent a total of 40 minutes stopped. After struggling so much on the ridge, we were pretty content to coast on the way back.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This loop is gorgeous and makes for some great high altitude training!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Garmin route:&nbsp;<a href="http://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/621684184">http://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/621684184</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-9820446911511825592014-10-22T18:41:00.002-07:002014-10-22T18:44:38.189-07:00A daring adventure or nothing at all: Dead Horse 50kI have a lot of running-related nightmares. By far the worst and most re-occurring dream is one where I am running an ultra-marathon through a mall. This mall is like a never ending Mall of America complete with an amusement park. I shout at people, asking them if they've seen course markings or other runners, but it's like no one can hear me. No matter how hard I try, I just can't stay on course. So naturally, during most races, I'm pretty hyper-vigilant about making sure I don't go off course. Here's the thing, though, it's pretty hard to mark a course with a lot of slick rock.<br /><br />When I showed up in Moab for the Dead Horse 50k I didn't have a lot of expectations other than to have fun with awesome people. When Justin, one of the RDs invited me to the race, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to enjoy the desert with a great crew of friends. My dad reworked his schedule and drove out with my grandma from Wisconsin. They were en route to Mesa, Arizona where my grandma lives for the winter. My dad let us stay in his camper at the KOA campground so lodging was free.<br /><br />Things seemed to be coming together even though my body was longing for an off season. I had only been running four days a week and I had been eating large amounts of cheese and beer after a recent trip to Wisconsin. Being lactose-intolerant is the worst and normally I'm a pre-race race food nazi. It was a pretty big break through when the family convinced me to... wait for it... EAT OUT THE NIGHT BEFORE THE RACE! First time ever.<br /><br />Race morning came and I was pretty excited to run the first 7 miles with dad, who was running the 25k. He needed two miles to warm up but totally crushed the next two miles of downhill. I couldn't even keep up with him! We watched an incredible sun rise over the La Sal mountains. These miles were bliss. We were still feeling fresh and dad was hopping off rocks kicking his heels up like Kilian.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-azl1gBR4DI0/VEawJ_8sj1I/AAAAAAAABl4/Aoy6iA0b8DM/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-azl1gBR4DI0/VEawJ_8sj1I/AAAAAAAABl4/Aoy6iA0b8DM/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sun rise</div><br />Shortly before aid 2 dad told me to go ahead. Soon after, I saw Kevin, a volunteer, at a junction pointing the 50k runners in one direction and the 25k runners in the other. I thought he was a course marshal, but I didn't realize until later that aid station had been behind Kevin just out of view. I hadn't stopped at the first aid station either and so I knew I needed to start conserving my water to make it the next 7.5 miles to the third aid station at Gemini Bridges. This section through Arth's Pasture and up to the bridges was really enjoyable but lonely. I passed some guys and came into aid 3 feeling good and pretty fresh.<br /><br />Justin asked if I had trouble with course markings at any point and I told him that it was marked excellently and any time there was any question, I had just gotten used to following the dots painted on the rocks. To those who haven't run slick rock before, since it's impossible to have defined trails there are permanent dots painted on the rock to show travelers the route. The course was differentiated from those dots with pink and black ribbons. Getting used to following the dots was about to become my downfall.<br /><br />The Mag 7 trail was amazing but for 6.5 miles I didn't have anyone to run with. There were plenty of mountain bikers who were very unhappy to see me. The leader of one group was getting frustrated because he would pass me and then I would pass him while he waited for his slower riders. He finally asked me if we were running to Arth's and gave me a big unhappy sigh when I told him we were. When I made it to Arth's aid station, the volunteer told me I was the second woman. I knew Melissa must be in first and I was pretty sure I wouldn't catch her. That girl is fast and I was hoping she would chick all the boys.<br /><br />I kept expecting to get a low point, but I honestly felt great. The Great Escape Trail was by far my favorite section of the course with lots of technical slick rock and good views. I started getting hot and went through my water pretty fast. The volunteer at Arth's said it was only 5 or 6 miles to the next aid station and so even though I had drank almost all of my water in just 4 miles, I thought I would be ok until the next and final aid station. When my Garmin beeped at mile 23 I started to think I had second place in the bag. Stupid.<br /><br />I had been playing tag with some mountain bikers and one of them seemed, I don't know how to put this, overly interested in me? At first he was just really encouraging but then he told me he was going to buy me a beer that night and then when they stopped for a break, he jumped ahead and took a picture with me. I was pretty relieved to finally get ahead of them for good. Shortly after that, the green dots I had been following turned into yellow dots. They curved around a large rock and headed up a cool slick rock section. It seemed really familiar and it wasn't until I was describing this section to Chris, one of the RDs, that he told me why: I had gotten onto the Red Hot course.<br /><br />So honestly, this section was so awesome that I didn't notice that I had gone about a mile and a half without seeing any of the pink and black ribbons. I was still following the dots after all. I was out of water and I glanced at my watch, I had gone 25 miles, why wasn't I at the aid station yet? I was starting to get nervous. When I finally saw some mountain bikers looking off at some rock formation (which I now know was Bride Arch) I started shouting at them, "Have you seen any course markings? Have you seen any other runners?" I got blank stares. It was like they couldn't hear me. I was getting frenzied. "HAVE YOU SEEN ANY OTHER RUNNERS?" My nightmares were becoming a reality. Finally one guy told me that he had seen another runner just a few minutes ago.<br /><br />I continued on. In less than a half mile, I saw that runner heading back towards me. He was nervous because he, too, was out of water and hadn't seen any course markings. The first thought that went through my head was that some angry mountain biker had torn down the pink ribbons. I figured everyone was going to go off course. I told the other runner, Bubba, that it had been about 2 miles since I had remembered seeing course markings and we decided to keep running. We came to an intersection and the map had been torn off the sign post. A small part was still legible and it said that we were at the Gold Bar Rim Trail and if we turned right it would take us to Gemini Bridges Road. It said that we should only continue on if we had plenty of water.<br /><br />We stopped to talk about our options. We were both officially out of water. As I looked around everything seemed out of place. The La Sals weren't in the direction they should be if we were really heading back to the aid station. In front of us were lots and lots of rocks that all looked exactly the same and no signs of people... no bikes, no hum of jeeps bouncing around. We felt pretty hopeless. Bubba mentioned that he felt like we should go left. Even though that way felt familiar (because I had run it at Red Hot) I knew that we needed to get back to Gemini Bridges and so I said we should go right. I figured that even if the Gold Bar Rim Trail popped out farther down on Gemini Bridges, at least we would be pretty likely to see some vehicles on that road.<br /><br />We ran about another mile and started taking a side trail and climbing over some rocks to get a better view. Nothing stood out to us. For the first time, the rocks looked dangerous to me. I was so thirsty and even though I had to pee I made the conscious decision to hold it in case I needed to bottle that pee and drink it later. There was a lot of swearing around mile 27. Both of us lamented on how we always run with our phones even though our friends make fun of us, but for this one race we decided to leave the phones at home. We had both taken screen shots of the course maps on our phones, but obviously this did us no good since our phones weren't with us.<br /><br />I was glad that Bubba was there because without him, I would have just sat on a rock and cried myself into dehydration. He quietly said to me that he was glad he didn't have to die alone. I suggested that we walk so we wouldn't dehydrate more quickly and he agreed. I don't remember a time where I felt more in danger than this moment. Bubba remarked how they always say not to panic when you get lost, but how impossible that is when you actually find yourself in that situation. Looking back, I don't know why we thought it would be smarter to keep going instead of turning around. Now that I know where we were, it would have been longer to go back the way we came. Dumb luck.<br /><br />Less than half a mile later we saw some jeeps. One of the guys was unloading something from the back of the jeep and we interrogated him. He said he had seen some runners and pointed out the nearest pink ribbon to us. We could see the aid station down below but we weren't sure how far it was to get there. I asked him if he had any extra water and he gave us a bottle to share and said it was probably a mile down the hill.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nrvTZPmmMxk/VEawqylIImI/AAAAAAAABnY/asFrabYAv6Q/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nrvTZPmmMxk/VEawqylIImI/AAAAAAAABnY/asFrabYAv6Q/s1600/photo%2B5%2B%282%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We took that blue got Gold Bar Trail around to the yellow jeep road... fun trail but not the right way</div><br />As we came into the aid station, I frantically told Meghan, who was volunteering, how we had gotten lost and I asked her how many girls had gone through. She replied, "A lot." I filled up my bottles and took off. My fear had subsided into anger. At first I was angry that the course wasn't marked better. The problem with that thought is that I know the race directors and they don't skimp on course markings. They take pride in their work. I had to face it. I wasn't looking and I missed the turn. On top of that I was so unobservant that I followed the yellow dots for 2 miles before I really accepted that I wasn't on the course anymore.<br /><br />Bubba and I ran the next 4.5 miles together more or less. We passed a good number of runners. I was fueled by my frustration with my own stupidity, but Bubba seemed to be running on gratefulness, fist bumping the slower runners as he passed them. I don't know how, but we came to a place where we admitted to each other that it felt like we were meant to go off course just to keep each other safe.<br /><br />I glanced at my watch when it said I had gone 31 miles and my time at that point was 5:35. &nbsp;Even with getting lost, wandering around, climbing on rocks to get a better vantage point, and walking to stave off dehydration I had still managed to get a 50k PR. We still crossed the finish line in under 6 hours. I had run a 55k 30 minutes faster than my 55k time at Red Hot this last spring. I decided to call it a personal win. I couldn't have asked for a more adventurous day. I'll be back for more Grassroots Events races and I can't wait to get my revenge on this awesome course next year.<br /><br />I'd like to say that the excellent post-race party drowned out my sorrows, but obviously it's still bothering me a little bit. The end of the season is always a little sad no matter what the circumstances are. It's nothing a little post season beer and cheese won't fix.<br /><br />Garmin route:&nbsp;<a href="http://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/616644069">http://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/616644069</a><br /><br />On Sunday, I ventured with dad, Cory, and Mayla to the La Sal mountains where we hiked Miner's Pass. I just can't get enough of these mountains.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWf-5VfKRw/VEawLMBOkuI/AAAAAAAABmM/F8QFJvHZIpA/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWf-5VfKRw/VEawLMBOkuI/AAAAAAAABmM/F8QFJvHZIpA/s1600/photo%2B1%2B%282%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4CbXbOrTwnY/VEawLElhThI/AAAAAAAABmI/iXUb8GxpU3Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4CbXbOrTwnY/VEawLElhThI/AAAAAAAABmI/iXUb8GxpU3Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B%282%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH4tW0FJaR8/VEawNR53UfI/AAAAAAAABmU/t6FetV8iWNw/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH4tW0FJaR8/VEawNR53UfI/AAAAAAAABmU/t6FetV8iWNw/s1600/photo%2B3%2B%282%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXJ0s2RuDUo/VEawZM_w0EI/AAAAAAAABmc/R3oB56LyNtg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXJ0s2RuDUo/VEawZM_w0EI/AAAAAAAABmc/R3oB56LyNtg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B%282%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6-ZlmhgwD4g/VEawabjpcqI/AAAAAAAABmo/V8WEkbQRS_w/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6-ZlmhgwD4g/VEawabjpcqI/AAAAAAAABmo/V8WEkbQRS_w/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wG0DKIjz9tQ/VEawhy_Mx3I/AAAAAAAABm0/N2ZSZzXMynE/s1600/photo%2B5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wG0DKIjz9tQ/VEawhy_Mx3I/AAAAAAAABm0/N2ZSZzXMynE/s1600/photo%2B5.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-27912726914173720852014-09-29T10:19:00.001-07:002014-10-02T08:29:56.901-07:00Rainbow Trail FKT report<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guest post by Cory Linfield</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know this FKT report is long overdue - so here it is:</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />The idea of running the entire Rainbow Trail is something I have been playing with for a few years. I met my wife, Allisa, working at Horn Creek camp south of Westcliffe, CO during the summer of 2009 when we were both in college. Horn Creek camp has a trailhead right beside it with about half a mile to get to the trail. I ran quite a few times that summer, exploring north and south on the trail as far as I could go between camp duties, being fairly limited by lack of hydration and nutrition at that point. Since Allisa and I've moved to CO and I've researched the extent of the Rainbow Trail, the thought of going back and running the whole thing has never been too far from my mind.</span><br /><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year I decided to go for it - after a bit of research it seemed to me that no one had ever traversed the entire length of the trail by foot, or had no record on the internet of having done so. Given the increased popularity of FKT's, especially in CO, and the fact this is a nice, contiguous, almost entirely singletrack with only a spattering of 4WD road intersections, and a single paved road to cross, I figured I should hop on it to be the first. My wife was incredibly supportive, excited about the adventure and the chance to run parts of it with me (I am a fan of pacers - I think its fantastic being able to share these kind of adventures with friends). Also my father and mother-in-law, Barth and Jodi Zurbuchen, were able to coordinate a vacation with their camper and high-clearance truck to coincide with my attempt in July, which helped with logistics. My sister, Kristen, came to help and I was hoping my coach, Altra athlete, Josh Arthur, was going to meet up with me and maybe run some of the trail with me.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Saturday, we drove out to Salida with the car filled with gear, dropped some things off at the camper and headed down to the southern end of the trail, across the mountains from Great Sand Dunes National Park. It was raining as we drove up to the trailhead, which was pretty nerve wracking, and it continued while we set up our tent and arranged things for the next morning. I woke up at about 1 am to silence, which meant the rain had finally stopped. It had been raining 12 straight hours since the previous day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QRBHV86sRWI/U_J8l7PQ_aI/AAAAAAAABac/aLqdSGNQ1AM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QRBHV86sRWI/U_J8l7PQ_aI/AAAAAAAABac/aLqdSGNQ1AM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B%2813%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wanted to get a real early start to run some of the trail in the dark, so at 2 am the alarms went off and I made some coffee and choked down pop-tarts shivering, while Allisa and Kristen broke down our camp. At 3:10 am, Allisa and I stood for a picture at the southern terminus of the trail, took pictures of my watch, and headed up the trail. Very quickly I started to heat up and I took off several layers, thinking that I had too much in my pack, something I thought several times throughout the day. We hopped around puddles for the first bit, almost the only evidence I would see of rain during my trek. We stopped at a pit toilet at the Grape Creek Trailhead at about 4:45, and while I was waiting for Allisa, a man wandered up to me, smoking a cigarette and complaining about our early start and headlamps. I shook off the strange encounter and continuing on, we started to see the first signs of the morning, very red with too many clouds for comfort over the valley. Running around the bottom of Humboldt Peak, I began to see the first familiar sections of trail from when I had explored several summers ago at camp. I pumped some water with Sawyer's fantastic Squeeze Water Filter in North Colony Creek and Allisa reminded me to keep the pace in this very early section very relaxed - something I had trouble forcing myself to do.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QuGIeSWgfQ4/U_J8nstGVUI/AAAAAAAABao/aEfLFwhOiyY/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QuGIeSWgfQ4/U_J8nstGVUI/AAAAAAAABao/aEfLFwhOiyY/s1600/photo%2B4%2B%2812%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At 7:50 am and 18.4 miles in, we met Kristen on the trail above Horn Creek with water and nutrition. I dropped Allisa off there and continued down the trail, the next section I felt the best that I felt all day, clipping off miles pretty easily. The trail was familiar and relatively easy with flat and gently rolling sections. The day began to heat up and although it was shaded, I was stopping at every creek to pour water on my legs, arms, and head. After about 5 miles, I had gone farther than I ever had exploring from camp and the rest of the day would be new exploration - which is my favorite aspect of long endeavors.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came very quickly into Gibson Creek mile 29.8 at 10:25 am, running a short section down to the trailhead to meet my wife, sister, mother-in-law, and dog, very happy to see familiar faces. They asked me if I had seen Barth on his mountain bike, as he had left just a few minutes ago to meet me. I hadn't, so they yelled his name, and Kristen raced off to find him before he got too lost. I sat down and contemplated the wide range of food options - a very good problem to have. The whole day would be marked by getting pretty comfortable at aid stops because I wanted to spend time with the people who were putting so much effort into supporting me during my adventure.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Note from Allisa: My dad and mom had gone to most of the access points the night before while we were getting set up at the southern terminus. Even though Cory had called the Forest Service and done some research on the various access points along the trail, many of the roads were a lot gnarlier than expected. This meant that only my dad had the skills to navigate his truck along the 4WD roads. My dad had stayed up until well after midnight trying to decide whether or not to drive out to the southern terminus to tell us (we didn't have cell reception). Finally he decided to just let Cory start as planned and to see what the day brought. Cory would be able to at least get the first 50k done before having to be bothered with a change of plans.</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Barth was located and Allisa discussed the change of plans, the Big Cottonwood Trailhead was very difficult to drive up and they might not be able to get there. The aid station that we were calling Bear Creek was also difficult to access and if it was dark and raining they might not be able to make it. Barth was going to pace me through a few sections, but would need to drive the truck up there instead. He was hoping to drive to the aid stations and then bike back on the trail to find me. The change of plans made me a little nervous, but I trusted that Allisa and Barth were much better judges of realistic logistics than I was at that time, so I agreed and headed up the trail.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyqUePLUZMM/U_J8qDIH1iI/AAAAAAAABak/hUZqpOEftfo/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IyqUePLUZMM/U_J8qDIH1iI/AAAAAAAABak/hUZqpOEftfo/s1600/photo%2B5%2B%2817%29.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next section to Ducket Creek, 14.1 miles, felt enormous. The day was really heating up and I stopped twice to fill water bottles with filtered water from creeks while sitting in the shade. I slowed down on the uphills and my calorie intake suffered as well. At several meadows, the views of the valley below cheered me up. I got my feet wet at a large stream where there was evidence of a bridge being constructed. Up to this point there were quite a few very solid bridges which would support an ATV - the Rainbow Trail is open to ATVs south of Oak Creek and to Dirt Bikes for the entire length of the trail. I entered an area that had been burned out only a few summers before and the trail here was very washed out, the only section of the trail which wasn't in excellent condition. Barth had biked back to meet me about 2 miles from Ducket Creek, which meant he got to experience the very worst section of the trail for mountain biking. We even had to jump over a 5 foot deep, 4 foot wide crevasse where water had tore a huge slice in a stream bed. I was welcomed by my dog at Ducket Creek, mile 43.9 at 2:20 pm.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0XKaF5Zhj48/U_J8m3R4baI/AAAAAAAABaQ/S5BudKrO76o/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0XKaF5Zhj48/U_J8m3R4baI/AAAAAAAABaQ/S5BudKrO76o/s1600/photo%2B3%2B%2820%29.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During the next section, clouds came over the Sangres which looked like they would be dumping rain, but it continued to be a dry, warm day. North of Oak Creek, about 3 miles from Ducket Creek, the trail is taken over by the Salida Ranger district and almost immediately the trail seems to change from a flat or rolling doubletrack intersected with numerous streams surrounded by pines and aspens to a much hillier, narrower singletrack with fewer streams in a high alpine desert. The trail markings were a bit sparser as well and there were a few places where I had to guess which was the main trail and which were auxiliary mountain bike trails. These kind of decisions, easy to make during a long run, seem much harder this far into such a long effort and I desperately did not want to go even a few miles off course. I came down a very long and overgrown descent into Big Cottonwood at 5:10 meeting Allisa hiking up the trail.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Note from Allisa: I almost lost my head looking for Cory in this section. The narrow 4WD road up to Big Cottonwood was slow going. Then when we got there, there were none of the familiar Rainbow Trail markings. The trail looked a lot different than it had in the other sections, a lot narrower and rooty, less maintained and harder to follow so I thought that we weren't at the right trail, there had to be some intersection farther up. We hiked 2 miles up the trail looking for the Rainbow Trail to intersect the trail we were on, only to realize that we were on the Rainbow Trail. I frantically ran back to the car and started running in the trail the other direction, growing more worried because Cory's pace was slowing down. Why hadn't he arrived? When I finally found him, he was in low spirits with only a little bit of nasty brown water in his bottles. He was so desperate for company I was worried he wasn't going to make it to the next aid station alone. Would Josh make it to the right place in time to pace Cory? I was certain that Cory wouldn't continue if Josh wasn't there. Communication was pretty hard since the cell service was patchy. All Josh had were some coordinates and a time frame.</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leaving Big Cottonwood, I had the largest climb of the trail, up a creek and then switchbacks up a good sized hill. Usually I look forward to the climbs as I can hike them at a good clip, but halfway up I began to feel very nauseous and light headed. I sat down for a few minutes and worked on a Honey Stinger waffle and some water. Climbing up to the top of the hill was one of the more scenic areas of the trail, but I was not in an appreciative mood. Coming over the top, I was moving very slowly, thinking about dropping out of the FKT attempt, a thought that did not sit well with me. I met Barth on the descent down to Hayden Creek, happy to find me as I was moving much slower than planned. Picking up on his enjoyment on being out on a beautiful trail in the mountains, I started moving down the trail, feeling better with his company. As we got down to the creek and crossed a bridge, I met Allisa who excitedly told me she had just seen a bear a few seconds ago. A few feet further and I came across Josh, who had brought his friend Jessica and Jack the dog to meet up with my crew to support me after spending the last few days watching Hardrock. I got into Hayden at 7:45, and complained to Allisa about how rough the last section had been, which already felt silly being surrounded by so many happy and supportive friends and family. Josh was getting ready to pace me through the next section and optimistically brushed all my whining aside, saying he had seen people in far worse shape than me finishing Hardrock, and that I was just displaying symptoms of bonking, which makes sense at mile 59.8 of a run. Its hard to argue with that. So after changing some clothes and drinking some chicken noodle soup, we headed up the trail as it started to get dark.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After feeling rejuvenated with a clothing change, some chicken noodle soup, and encouragement from everyone, Josh and I headed up the trail next to the creek. I got a second wind here, I think my low mood was mostly from dehydration and lack of calories. Josh enacted a strict V Fuel gel regimen every 20 minutes, immediately restarting his timer when it went off and handing me a gel with the top already torn off. It was really good talking with Josh. We discussed Tiny Homes, gear for racing and alpine exploring, and peak-bagging. I was hiking really strong on the uphills and running decently on everything else. About halfway up the hill, we switched on our headlamps. I was unfamiliar with this section and running it in the dark makes it seem so disorienting. There were several trail intersections with signs knocked over that would have been perfectly clear which was the secondary trail during the day, but in the dark I was very glad to have a second opinion on the correct direction. On top of the ridges, we saw lightning on mountains several miles away and eventually the moon rose in a clear sky – the weather directly above me remained nearly perfect. About 8 miles through this section, I started to slow, again feeling nauseous. I would stop when taking a gel and my overall pace was not as peppy. There were several tricky stream crossings, difficult because of the dark and my less responsive legs – Josh skipped across each of them very easily. For the last several miles I was watching my GPS far too often, counting down the miles to the next crew spot. We climbed up on a final ridge that opened up to a meadow and a clear view of the moon, and found that there must have been hail or sleet not too long before, the plants were covered with ice and there were puddles of hail, which looked very enchanting in the headlights.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">Note from Allisa: After the boys left Hayden Creek, we took off in search of dinner and Jessica grabbed grilled cheese ingredients, swearing that it would turn Cory's run around. Since the road to the Bear Creek TH was questionable and it was very dark, we all piled in my dad's truck - 5 people and two dogs. This road was GNARLY and hard to navigate in the dark. Lots of intersections that would normally be obvious in the daytime. After getting the the TH Jess and I hopped out of the car and Jack saw something in the woods that made him upset. He would not stop barking into the dark. Totally spooked, Jess and I piled back into the stinky truck and we all tried to snooze. Midnight came and went and finally around 1 am I thought I saw a light coming down the trail. It was just the moon. We decided to get the party going. Music and lights would hopefully scare the bears way.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Coming up to the Bear Creek TH we saw a few lights, which I assumed were down in the valley, but were actually Allisa and company’s headlights watching for us. Josh hollered and we heard very happy exclamations that we were finally coming down the trail. I collapsed into a chair, and fueled up on more soup. This aid station was one of my favorite parts of the traverse, Barth and Jodi had lights, chairs, and music set up around their truck and it was incredible for me to have 6 people and 2 dogs here in the middle of the mountains, only up this late to support and equip me for this long trek alongside the mountains. Josh and Jess started making grilled cheese sandwiches, seasoned perfectly for someone who had been running for hours - very salty. After another pep talk from Allisa and encouragement from Josh, Kristen and I headed out, a little stiff from sitting in the cold night air.</span><br /><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Note from Allisa: Things were a lot more serious here than Cory makes it seem. Cory needed to be 100% sure that he could make it the next 15 miles through the night with his sister to guide him. Kristen had grown increasingly nervous about pacing and wasn't sure if she could do it. Cory also doesn't take tough love from his sister very well, so I knew that if they ran into trouble Kristen would rely on Cory instead of Cory being able to trust her to make the decisions. A lot could have gone wrong here. If it had rained, they weren't moving fast enough to keep their body temperatures up and there was no way to get a hold of us for help, nor would we be able to access them. If Cory wasn't sure about his abilities I wanted him to quit, I was worried. Fortunately Josh had other opinions: he told Cory he had absolutely no excuses to quit. This vote of confidence is what Cory really needed.</span></span></div><div><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQ1fretEj4/U_J-Av9_lvI/AAAAAAAABa4/hDZnEXtS318/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQ1fretEj4/U_J-Av9_lvI/AAAAAAAABa4/hDZnEXtS318/s1600/photo%2B5%2B%2810%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This second to last section, from Bear Creek to the intersection with 285, was a struggle. I was still pretty smooth on the downhills and flats, but was really using the poles up the hills and transitioning back to a run was work. Kristen and I made relatively good time – 12 minute miles – for the first several miles. About 7 miles in we came up to a jeep road and for the first time on the trail there was no arrow showing which direction to take to continue on the Rainbow Trail. Kristen very graciously did some scouting first up the trail, then down the trail several hundred feet, without an obvious route. The map I had seemed to show the trail continued straight across the road, so we hiked about a half mile up the road, running into private property signs. I was pretty tired and frustrated at that point, and decided to try going down and if we didn’t find the trail to just hike out. Fortunately about ¾ of a mile from the jeep road intersection, the Rainbow Trail continued. As the sun was coming up, we started the last major climb of the RT, about 2000 ft up a steep trail that ran along the ridge before dropping down to 285. This was another gorgeous section of trail that rolled through an Aspen forest with great views of the surrounding mountains, probably one of the best sections of the trail, but I was not very appreciative. We met Josh about half a mile up the trail and jogged down with him to Barth and Allisa waiting by the truck.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span style="color: blue;"> Note from Allisa: Around 5am I got a text from Kristen saying they were 3 miles from the intersection with 285. We had all been napping in the camper and I suddenly jumped up saying, "Everyone wake up! We need to get to the trail NOW!" When we got there, we expected to see them within 15 minutes tops. The anxiety and exhaustion finally got the best of me and I started throwing up. I was supposed to run the last 10 with Cory so this was no time to feel sick. Come the end of the world, I was going to run these last 10 with him. Turns out some misleading signage made them gauge their distance to the intersection wrong and so the 3 miles text from Kristen was a false alarm.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6of5_n3iqX0/U_J8k-c0CfI/AAAAAAAABaA/Zg4qql_EsxM/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(22).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6of5_n3iqX0/U_J8k-c0CfI/AAAAAAAABaA/Zg4qql_EsxM/s1600/photo%2B2%2B%2822%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Allisa wisely pushed me as soon as I had filled up on water to cross the road and up the hill <span style="color: blue;">(c'mon we weren't going to give him a breakfast buffet 10 miles from the end)</span>. I gave up my Black Diamond Z-poles as there was not a great deal of climbing left – this was a mistake because by this point, 28 hours into my adventure, I did not have very much power in my legs and could have used the extra push forward of poles even on the flat sections. Allisa was fantastic, putting up with my whining <span style="color: blue;">(and swearing)</span> about wanting to be finished, as we ran through dips into a creek bed and climbs over the next spur. I was expecting to drop down to the stream I could see below, but all of a sudden we made a turn on the trail and there was the signpost for the other terminus of the Rainbow Trail. Barth, Jodi, Josh, Jess, Kristen, and the two dogs were right there, having driven up less than 5 minutes before. Unlike most ends to these sorts of things, the finish was not hugely climactic. As I went about sitting down and drinking as much cold liquid as I could, everyone else started setting up a surprise celebratory picnic. I got into a hammock and was treated to Josh making pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. I was very content, so much that I slipped into unconsciousness a couple of times.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eKyFz9z03Kc/U_J_yUO4-II/AAAAAAAABbQ/n9mmhfOOPhY/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eKyFz9z03Kc/U_J_yUO4-II/AAAAAAAABbQ/n9mmhfOOPhY/s1600/photo%2B1%2B%2824%29.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to everyone who made this possible. Final time: 30:58:38.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Strava links:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/165997014">http://www.strava.com/activities/165997014</a><br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/166004005">http://www.strava.com/activities/166004005</a><br /><a href="http://www.strava.com/activities/165998147">http://www.strava.com/activities/165998147</a></span></div></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-46682140533581879002014-09-04T11:50:00.001-07:002014-09-04T11:50:38.868-07:00Breck Crest Half MarathonThe racing itch came back after a two month absence and I had been looking for Sunday races that I could jump into without having to ask off of work at the bank. As you may have noticed I've been taking a lot of time off work...<br /><br />Signing up for Breck Crest had been in the back of my mind and I knew what the first half of the course was like from a recon mission last summer. This race is one of my favorites because it has the perfect blend of epic scenery and good competition with speedy locals coming out to play, while still maintaining that down-to-earth, no frills feeling that a lot of races start to lose over time. Plus it's pretty nice that they give a decent chunk of money out to the podium finishers for the half and the full.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEBVmDhpVP0/VAcqAAGVUlI/AAAAAAAABjk/C2EGkWWzpvc/s1600/IMG_0105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEBVmDhpVP0/VAcqAAGVUlI/AAAAAAAABjk/C2EGkWWzpvc/s1600/IMG_0105.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Running the Wheeler Trail summer 2013</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So I talked Cory into heading up to Breck after work on Saturday to camp and maybe hop in the race. I hadn't decided which distance to do so I figured I would see how I felt the morning of the race. I ended up feeling pretty crappy that morning with a headache and the beginnings of altitude sickness so we stopped at the grocery store and got me some "Altitude Adjustment Pills" which I'm pretty sure are just a placebo that gives you an attitude adjustment. Cory decided to hop in the half as well.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">At the race start, we didn't really have time for race jitters to set in and I realized too late that I had forgotten my watch. Just before they released us into the mountains, it started to rain. It was that kind of nasty drizzle where you don't know whether to put a shell on or to just tough it out. I firgured the rain wouldn't last long.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xB4CtZAfFLk/VAiyQDYBJpI/AAAAAAAABkY/Oty30q363_0/s1600/Cory2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xB4CtZAfFLk/VAiyQDYBJpI/AAAAAAAABkY/Oty30q363_0/s1600/Cory2.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory on the Burro Trail</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by Vertical Runner</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Off we went on a 7 mile climb up to Peak 9. A good number of women took off at a pace I knew I could not sustain and my stomach was immediately sloshy. I decided it wasn't worth it to push the pace and have another race like the Leadville Marathon so I took it steady and talked with a girl named Laura from Aspen. I was able to run almost the whole way until the Wheeler Trail where I switched into hike mode. I really need to improve my hiking because I always get passed on the steep stuff. As we ascended above tree line, some blowing snow hit us and since most of us were already soaked from the rain, it was a dangerous situation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2k_wKYYGW1Y/VAix26Fj1kI/AAAAAAAABkQ/g3PUqvxLunQ/s1600/Breck%2Bcrest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2k_wKYYGW1Y/VAix26Fj1kI/AAAAAAAABkQ/g3PUqvxLunQ/s1600/Breck%2Bcrest.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Near the top of the Wheeler Trail</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by ClimbBetty</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Normally, I don't approve of people switching distances midway through a race, but people were just unprepared for the conditions and a lot of runners switched from the full to the half partway through. This made the competition for the half a little more stiff. I knew I had my work cut out for me on the downhill if I wanted to get within the top ten. A lot of people stopped at the mile 7 aid station, but I plowed through it which put me ahead of about 3 women who had passed me on the last climb.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As I turned down the rocky 4 wheel drive road, there was no one in sight. I could see many switch backs below me but no one on them, so I figured there was no way to make up enough ground to pass anyone. I was so cold that I couldn't feel my hands and all I could think about was getting down! About 3 miles from the end I caught my first glimpse of someone and as soon as we switched from dirt road to more technical stuff, I passed 3 more women. One stayed pretty close to me and when I missed a sharp turn on some single-track she saw me swearing and heading back to the course and got ahead of me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I realized my mistake pretty quick so it didn't take more than a few seconds to backtrack, but it just made me lose my momentum. After that I was stuck in maintenance mode, trying to keep others from passing me back. My legs felt like jello and I was running as fast as I could without puking. Its funny to think that a few years ago a half marathon felt like a long way to me, but now it's like a prolonged sprint.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I crossed the finish line and was happy to see 2:22 on the clock. Since I didn't have a watch I incorrectly assumed this was my time. Apparently the clock was set for the 10k runners that started 15 minutes after us, so my finishing time was 2:37, good for 10th place. Cory got his first first place finish ever at a trail race and kicked the crap out of the competition with a time of 1:57. He got $250 which covered our race entries for the weekend. Pretty proud of that guy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CZTfAzqqpgs/VAiyoYLN0UI/AAAAAAAABkg/CwztznoyphM/s1600/10352997_10152697341253745_5266778072086960360_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CZTfAzqqpgs/VAiyoYLN0UI/AAAAAAAABkg/CwztznoyphM/s1600/10352997_10152697341253745_5266778072086960360_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I won my age group</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NA_LnIDxs38/VAiyoYqR1FI/AAAAAAAABkk/B6OjJiaRv9g/s1600/10653294_10152697332688745_1968623961943844632_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NA_LnIDxs38/VAiyoYqR1FI/AAAAAAAABkk/B6OjJiaRv9g/s1600/10653294_10152697332688745_1968623961943844632_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory won the whole thing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-61983992092532245932014-08-30T10:07:00.004-07:002014-08-30T10:07:59.766-07:00The High Lonesome LoopEver since Cory and I moved to Colorado in 2012, we have been trying to finish a 15 mile loop up near Nederland. I've heard the loop referred to as the High Lonesome Loop or the Hessie Loop before, but essentially the "official" route starts at the Hessie TH at the bridge by the last legal parking spot, goes up the Devil's Thumb trail via Devil's Thumb bypass, cuts across the ridge on the High Lonesome trail, and heads back down to Hessie on the King Lake trail. There's a pretty speedy FKT on the route, with the fastest men's time coming in at 2:10.<br /><br />The first time we tried the route was in 2012 when Cory's sister, Kristen, was visiting. We told Kristen that it would be a tough 14+ mile run and to bring more than she normally would. Back then she just ran roads and her "normal" for a 14 mile run was to go empty handed. She thought she was prepared by bringing 2 or 3 gels, but inevitably we had to turn around 5 miles in because everyone was running out of food. Cory was upset and wouldn't even smile for a picture.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zPwYPFs9FhU/UE-HZR-Z-ZI/AAAAAAAAAUk/sSDURt-ZrUU/s1600/IMG_4190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zPwYPFs9FhU/UE-HZR-Z-ZI/AAAAAAAAAUk/sSDURt-ZrUU/s1600/IMG_4190.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Attempt in 2012... turned around at Jasper Lake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then, this June, we tried again. About 3.5 miles up Devil's thumb bypass, we got snowed in. It was impossible to tell where the trail went and it started to rain on us. We were bummed, but there was no way it was going to happen on that day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ay1V5P5Ajyk/VAH3TuMpMFI/AAAAAAAABgs/LRm0P5CezT4/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(28).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ay1V5P5Ajyk/VAH3TuMpMFI/AAAAAAAABgs/LRm0P5CezT4/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(28).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Too snowy (June 2014)</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dmzC_D-Kjhc/VAH3UIyL9GI/AAAAAAAABgw/_xbKj0ReayE/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(28).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dmzC_D-Kjhc/VAH3UIyL9GI/AAAAAAAABgw/_xbKj0ReayE/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(28).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Too rainy (June 2014)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We realized that we needed to start taking this loop more seriously if we actually wanted to get it done. We decided to make a purchase that is going to make every trail adventure more comfortable and cost effective. We got a Tepui rooftop tent for our car! Now we can sleep like babies on a 2.5 inch foam mattress in the comfort of a four season tent on top of our car. Best purchase we've ever made. On it's maiden voyage we decided to camp 20 minutes from the Hessie TH so we could get an earlier start. Even though it was a windy night with temps below 40 degrees, we woke up well rested and ready for adventure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sEdgKbxc2Lc/VAH5Im4NsVI/AAAAAAAABhA/KZpFjEx0KpM/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sEdgKbxc2Lc/VAH5Im4NsVI/AAAAAAAABhA/KZpFjEx0KpM/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(25).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rb4728GeRK0/VAH5LXJ8PMI/AAAAAAAABhI/71jZzxNbYZY/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rb4728GeRK0/VAH5LXJ8PMI/AAAAAAAABhI/71jZzxNbYZY/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(23).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we started the next morning we could tell it was going to be a chilly, windy day, but we were determined to finish the loop no matter what. We were far more prepared than we needed to be bringing at least 8 gels a piece, a water filter, a paper map, a map on my phone, and lots of layers. It was about 3/4 of a mile from our car to the bridge where I officially started the watch. We moved steadily, but didn't go too fast. It was going to be my longest run after coming back from a three week break due to tendonitis.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nTzxH1FSnBM/VAH67yp_m3I/AAAAAAAABhk/pOGXjNbXr8k/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nTzxH1FSnBM/VAH67yp_m3I/AAAAAAAABhk/pOGXjNbXr8k/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(25).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Wild flowers near Jasper Lake&nbsp;</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RNEfaLz8PA4/VAH7XUy0VkI/AAAAAAAABh8/afGoDXMlbzg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RNEfaLz8PA4/VAH7XUy0VkI/AAAAAAAABh8/afGoDXMlbzg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(24).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Getting to treeline</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zBPqcnwtBYw/VAH7VYSTv-I/AAAAAAAABh0/rsvfSxud-jM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zBPqcnwtBYw/VAH7VYSTv-I/AAAAAAAABh0/rsvfSxud-jM/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(26).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">El Pulgar del Diablo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W0EM138sfnQ/VAH60BKSwdI/AAAAAAAABhY/Q6NJ2zCGtpw/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(27).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W0EM138sfnQ/VAH60BKSwdI/AAAAAAAABhY/Q6NJ2zCGtpw/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(27).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You can't really see them but there are people on that saddle</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lEMZ4B5tQAc/VAH6zqxZX2I/AAAAAAAABhU/xCyM2Ka_qeE/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lEMZ4B5tQAc/VAH6zqxZX2I/AAAAAAAABhU/xCyM2Ka_qeE/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(24).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They don't call it High Lonesome for nothing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When we got to the top of the ridge it was really windy. Far windier than it was at the Leadville marathon where they said there were 35+ mph winds. When I pulled out my phone to take some pictures my map blew away! It was gone before I could even see what direction it went. It was bitterly cold on top of the ridge so we just tried to power through. After about three miles of hoping that we were on the right trail, we finally saw King Lake below us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rQ9l9pNVhGQ/VAIAOg4M5cI/AAAAAAAABiM/AcLV62Gejd0/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rQ9l9pNVhGQ/VAIAOg4M5cI/AAAAAAAABiM/AcLV62Gejd0/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(26).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Last few steps to the top</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YUx8Vplu-Bs/VAIAWckS8UI/AAAAAAAABig/1Wv43Atqz8s/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YUx8Vplu-Bs/VAIAWckS8UI/AAAAAAAABig/1Wv43Atqz8s/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(25).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">&nbsp;Cold at the saddle</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jHqpcb-2Td8/VAIArB43kzI/AAAAAAAABiw/lakRhEeAya8/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(27).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jHqpcb-2Td8/VAIArB43kzI/AAAAAAAABiw/lakRhEeAya8/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(27).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory running the ridge</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dBrG_odgvDU/VAIAPqKT9_I/AAAAAAAABiY/mltS9cBUbYU/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dBrG_odgvDU/VAIAPqKT9_I/AAAAAAAABiY/mltS9cBUbYU/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(26).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Descending the King Lake trail</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D65UpZgsBLA/VAIANr54LhI/AAAAAAAABiI/2ipFwMq0bdU/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D65UpZgsBLA/VAIANr54LhI/AAAAAAAABiI/2ipFwMq0bdU/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(24).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Water break</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After getting below the lakes some clouds started to roll in and we stopped for about 10 minutes to filter some water. &nbsp;After that I bonked and took 3 gels in 30 minutes. My stomach bothered me the whole way down so we weren't breaking any land speed records. When we made it back to the bridge my Garmin had 4:18 elapsed, 14.86 miles traveled, and over 3,300 feet gained. After changing at the car we saw a guy finishing up his run. He said he thought the wind was too bad for an attempt and had to turn around before the ridge. Even though we didn't have a very fast time, knowing that other people turned around made me feel pretty bad ass.</div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-64546050227599774832014-08-18T16:45:00.000-07:002014-08-18T16:45:39.459-07:00A month in picturesI feel overwhelmed trying to write about the last month. So many journeys, visitors, and experiences that I have no idea where to even start. Not to take the easy road, but I have so many incredible pictures that I might as well let them tell the story. I'm so thankful to have a job that allows me to do this, a family who wants to come along, and a husband who keeps escalating the adventures to new levels.<br /><br />The weekend after the MAS 50, we took off to the mountains again for Cory's FKT (fastest known time) attempt on the 102 mile Rainbow Trail. I'll let him tell the story in a post when he gets around to it, but to sum it up he finished in 30 hours 58 minutes and 38 seconds. As far as we can tell, his run was the first time someone completed the trail in one push so it is also the First Known Time. His crew consisted of my parents, Barth and Jodi; his sister, Kristen; his coach, Josh Arthur; Josh's girlfriend, Jessica; and two dogs, Mayla and Jack. And yes, at times we had five people and two dogs all napping in one truck.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QRBHV86sRWI/U_J8l7PQ_aI/AAAAAAAABaE/s7BLNTtS-No/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QRBHV86sRWI/U_J8l7PQ_aI/AAAAAAAABaE/s7BLNTtS-No/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(13).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sleepy start at 3:10 am</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQ1fretEj4/U_J-Av9_lvI/AAAAAAAABa0/kindnYi7EDI/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQ1fretEj4/U_J-Av9_lvI/AAAAAAAABa0/kindnYi7EDI/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(10).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Perfect timing: started the night after the full moon</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsa1QZPvsN8/U_J8iM_BVKI/AAAAAAAABZs/Tp8Cu9AT5_Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsa1QZPvsN8/U_J8iM_BVKI/AAAAAAAABZs/Tp8Cu9AT5_Q/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Red sky in morning, runners don't give a shit</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QuGIeSWgfQ4/U_J8nstGVUI/AAAAAAAABaM/PSiwjmtGrMA/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QuGIeSWgfQ4/U_J8nstGVUI/AAAAAAAABaM/PSiwjmtGrMA/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(12).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Above a thick layer of fog</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IyqUePLUZMM/U_J8qDIH1iI/AAAAAAAABaU/qTg9sy-N-hU/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IyqUePLUZMM/U_J8qDIH1iI/AAAAAAAABaU/qTg9sy-N-hU/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(17).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla running Cory in near mile 40?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AljoTRUtzxo/U_J8kI7oGuI/AAAAAAAABZ0/l8x5QnhlTWg/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AljoTRUtzxo/U_J8kI7oGuI/AAAAAAAABZ0/l8x5QnhlTWg/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mom's job was to document and take care of Mayla</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HAel9jnKytE/U_J8pF2D0TI/AAAAAAAABaY/B2ijJ__A3wM/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HAel9jnKytE/U_J8pF2D0TI/AAAAAAAABaY/B2ijJ__A3wM/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(19).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla stayed pretty close to the food blanket...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6of5_n3iqX0/U_J8k-c0CfI/AAAAAAAABZ4/uBq0nlcRH-k/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(22).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6of5_n3iqX0/U_J8k-c0CfI/AAAAAAAABZ4/uBq0nlcRH-k/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(22).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just after sunrise on the second morning</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg8Kvfdzz7I/U_J8jq8UHMI/AAAAAAAABZ8/OwgtetVJgyc/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg8Kvfdzz7I/U_J8jq8UHMI/AAAAAAAABZ8/OwgtetVJgyc/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(23).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Less than 8 miles to go!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKyFz9z03Kc/U_J_yUO4-II/AAAAAAAABbI/sqjyJYeTB8c/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKyFz9z03Kc/U_J_yUO4-II/AAAAAAAABbI/sqjyJYeTB8c/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(24).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory and Josh at the end</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After Cory finished his run everyone was exhausted. But we decided to do plenty of hiking in the Sangres over the next few days anyway.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qImNzhqg3RM/U_J_yFwL4FI/AAAAAAAABbE/I3quNweC5hw/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qImNzhqg3RM/U_J_yFwL4FI/AAAAAAAABbE/I3quNweC5hw/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(23).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla hates water&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9aHHwATVFIo/U_J_zBjKOzI/AAAAAAAABbM/F8UV2WQn28g/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(21).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9aHHwATVFIo/U_J_zBjKOzI/AAAAAAAABbM/F8UV2WQn28g/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(21).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Christmas card&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l25QHaB9TKY/U_J_0ecTo9I/AAAAAAAABbc/kLWa3H0J4GQ/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l25QHaB9TKY/U_J_0ecTo9I/AAAAAAAABbc/kLWa3H0J4GQ/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(20).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dad at a lake near Rainbow Trail Lutheran Camp</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OC_6an16ym0/U_J_1BPLFiI/AAAAAAAABbU/UZbpOzCxmSg/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OC_6an16ym0/U_J_1BPLFiI/AAAAAAAABbU/UZbpOzCxmSg/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(18).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Overlooking Westcliffe</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g1TMSYbaYuw/U_J_zu8g7NI/AAAAAAAABbk/hrm1yNuyfos/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g1TMSYbaYuw/U_J_zu8g7NI/AAAAAAAABbk/hrm1yNuyfos/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(11).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My happy place: South Colony Lakes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pPcISYKejEU/U_J_xMTpWAI/AAAAAAAABa8/QGlQXqTRJck/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pPcISYKejEU/U_J_xMTpWAI/AAAAAAAABa8/QGlQXqTRJck/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(12).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla's happy place: not running</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After getting back to Denver, we finally got around to moving our stuff from our old apartment to the new condo we just bought. My best friend, Sara, came to visit after spending two years in a hut in the Gambia with the Peace Corps.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWSzESE51aY/U_KBDHlM-cI/AAAAAAAABb0/kPfZStLvvfg/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWSzESE51aY/U_KBDHlM-cI/AAAAAAAABb0/kPfZStLvvfg/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(15).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Had to take her to the Hessie TH in Nederland&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqHCNwwEDY/U_KCv4MKAOI/AAAAAAAABds/T4qzYZKsz1g/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CPqHCNwwEDY/U_KCv4MKAOI/AAAAAAAABds/T4qzYZKsz1g/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(11).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Squeezed in Cory's birthday hike before more visitors came!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A few days, later Cory's parents came out for a week and we did it all again! Back to Salida, which is slowly becoming our favorite place. New 10 year dream plan: Move to Salida and open a bakery/coffee shop that features local artists... as if everyone else in town isn't already doing that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sLtPsG_DdIM/U_KCLg0KYaI/AAAAAAAABcA/Fb69d02vSI0/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sLtPsG_DdIM/U_KCLg0KYaI/AAAAAAAABcA/Fb69d02vSI0/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(17).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory looking manly by a flower</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e6cYTCEBk5M/U_KCpVzXLqI/AAAAAAAABc4/xr4_pQWMvzQ/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e6cYTCEBk5M/U_KCpVzXLqI/AAAAAAAABc4/xr4_pQWMvzQ/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(16).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dad on the dunes</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMqTqBM-g5g/U_KCqhEkg8I/AAAAAAAABcw/rnzcTGmaYtE/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DMqTqBM-g5g/U_KCqhEkg8I/AAAAAAAABcw/rnzcTGmaYtE/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(14).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mom and Cory's parents on yonder dune</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VRFcwn8tX7A/U_KCr6j3YHI/AAAAAAAABdE/ozLVtfXPvYg/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VRFcwn8tX7A/U_KCr6j3YHI/AAAAAAAABdE/ozLVtfXPvYg/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(16).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Top of the dunes</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtmr3m0JEhA/U_KCwfEnGfI/AAAAAAAABdw/nCoi6JuuAIw/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rtmr3m0JEhA/U_KCwfEnGfI/AAAAAAAABdw/nCoi6JuuAIw/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dune flowers</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ebtaweNFYRk/U_KCxmwO0AI/AAAAAAAABd8/YSccnVRKhas/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ebtaweNFYRk/U_KCxmwO0AI/AAAAAAAABd8/YSccnVRKhas/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(13).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not the Sahara, just Great Sand Dunes National Park</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4iyMWzD1VwQ/U_KCynp9HvI/AAAAAAAABeI/zRo1zdIHxo8/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4iyMWzD1VwQ/U_KCynp9HvI/AAAAAAAABeI/zRo1zdIHxo8/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The 14ers in the southern part of the Sangre de Cristos... someday I'll get you Little Bear</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-46ia8--N--0/U_KCLfAjnRI/AAAAAAAABb8/wHFhBkzfM38/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-46ia8--N--0/U_KCLfAjnRI/AAAAAAAABb8/wHFhBkzfM38/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(19).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Looking towards the light at Zapata Falls</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MT0-QXNLUes/U_KCxyz5JhI/AAAAAAAABeE/yf2EtKCmQis/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MT0-QXNLUes/U_KCxyz5JhI/AAAAAAAABeE/yf2EtKCmQis/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Turquoise Lake in Leadville</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UA0wPlihfCM/U_KComhDqAI/AAAAAAAABcg/YpPnBxVi1Ug/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(22).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UA0wPlihfCM/U_KComhDqAI/AAAAAAAABcg/YpPnBxVi1Ug/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(22).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Paddling family</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tpz0870OeXY/U_KCqYjOPaI/AAAAAAAABc0/ObwblsTnAm4/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(21).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tpz0870OeXY/U_KCqYjOPaI/AAAAAAAABc0/ObwblsTnAm4/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(21).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kristen got blisters on her hand from the paddle and didn't even complain!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hj1lkvpJR3U/U_KCtI_6NPI/AAAAAAAABdU/C-r0euyU73E/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hj1lkvpJR3U/U_KCtI_6NPI/AAAAAAAABdU/C-r0euyU73E/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(18).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dad in a meadow</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ooeklBJJ0wo/U_KCwq4X0HI/AAAAAAAABd0/Fblimqy8K_w/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ooeklBJJ0wo/U_KCwq4X0HI/AAAAAAAABd0/Fblimqy8K_w/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(17).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last run with dad</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nKEPuSCZ-Os/U_KFD9iZphI/AAAAAAAABeg/r32oLZEhosg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nKEPuSCZ-Os/U_KFD9iZphI/AAAAAAAABeg/r32oLZEhosg/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(18).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory and the Collegiates</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Eventually we had to get back to work, but first Cory and I decided to squeeze in an ascent of Mt. Evans. Since Evans is supposed to be easy, we decided to taker a harder approach. We parked on Guanella Pass near the trail that everyone takes up Bierstadt and we ascended the gully that rises above the marshy area to the northwest of Bierstadt. The climb was fun and it was relief to bypass the hordes climbing Bierstadt, but as soon as we got to the top of Evans we realized that there was a storm on the other side that we couldn't see. We took a picture and headed down immediately. About three miles from the bottom, it started hailing on us. We started to run through the marshes, getting sucked in by knee high mud and scraped up by the forest of willow bushes. Lightning danced around us and the temperature dropped but we kept moving and made it back to the car.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0hMNujA_S3w/U_KLJDrtoAI/AAAAAAAABfo/ckxRCmqoWaE/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(21).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0hMNujA_S3w/U_KLJDrtoAI/AAAAAAAABfo/ckxRCmqoWaE/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(21).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Having fun on the way up</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvJlE2htWtE/U_KHncW5ItI/AAAAAAAABe0/32AaeyHhLvE/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvJlE2htWtE/U_KHncW5ItI/AAAAAAAABe0/32AaeyHhLvE/s1600/photo%2B4%2B(16).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory at the summit with clouds moving in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfi8s3S7mGM/U_KHnSUcoLI/AAAAAAAABe4/n-I4h70QgdQ/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfi8s3S7mGM/U_KHnSUcoLI/AAAAAAAABe4/n-I4h70QgdQ/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(17).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Beautiful danger</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">How could I forget that we now have a cat in the house! Kristen and I went with Cory's mom, Amy, to the animal shelter to look at puppies and got distracted by an adorable kitten that Kristen adopted and named Cinder. Mayla is both terrified and curious by the new addition and is very jealous of all the attention the kitten is getting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hjiJ5ji3pE/U_KI-aL1kdI/AAAAAAAABfE/V3K88Maga4M/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7hjiJ5ji3pE/U_KI-aL1kdI/AAAAAAAABfE/V3K88Maga4M/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(20).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He is smitten</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zjaPgwNhQE/U_KI_EYmdRI/AAAAAAAABfI/5Idn1k9ObRA/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7zjaPgwNhQE/U_KI_EYmdRI/AAAAAAAABfI/5Idn1k9ObRA/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(20).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How could anyone resist that face?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After a week back at work we were off the Crested Butte this past weekend for the Grand Traverse, a 42 mile race from CB to Aspen. Cory said it was the most beautiful course he's ever experienced. I got to spend many hours in the car driving around the mountains to Aspen, I guess it was the most beautiful drive I've ever done, but I would much rather have run that amazing route. The stark contrast between down-to-earth Crested Butte and high-class Aspen was interesting. I almost felt embarrassed to change my shorts in the car for fear that a sharply dressed, bicycle riding police officer would arrest me for public indecency. Awesome race though! Great people, great food, great beer!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2_zMbcwJzd0/U_KMwZbciuI/AAAAAAAABgA/M9y8eRu9O5A/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2_zMbcwJzd0/U_KMwZbciuI/AAAAAAAABgA/M9y8eRu9O5A/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(15).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunset from our campsite in CB</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6er8jXJb68c/U_KLGXRXYsI/AAAAAAAABfc/qWpfQwon8VE/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6er8jXJb68c/U_KLGXRXYsI/AAAAAAAABfc/qWpfQwon8VE/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(17).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The start of the Grand Traverse</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vVV4wmkzl-I/U_KLYFVf0rI/AAAAAAAABfw/HW4eJSylQAU/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(8).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vVV4wmkzl-I/U_KLYFVf0rI/AAAAAAAABfw/HW4eJSylQAU/s1600/photo%2B5%2B(8).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I ran to the top of Aspen Mountain while waiting for the runners to finish... GORGEOUS!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--GC7LxqnSSA/U_KLF7bEjKI/AAAAAAAABfY/WeqaP-N3lfQ/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--GC7LxqnSSA/U_KLF7bEjKI/AAAAAAAABfY/WeqaP-N3lfQ/s1600/photo%2B3%2B(11).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">&nbsp;Cory bringing it home!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because we weren't tired enough from the 4am wake up call, we decided to stop in Leadville on the way back to hang out with friends and cheer on the leaders at Mayqueen and at the finish line. So inspired by all of our friends who toughed it out on a hot day and a brutal course!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DNIhvI5R_cg/U_KM4cgPMZI/AAAAAAAABgI/WbxEAYKqTtk/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DNIhvI5R_cg/U_KM4cgPMZI/AAAAAAAABgI/WbxEAYKqTtk/s1600/photo%2B2%2B(13).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The man, the myth, the legend: Rob Krar</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VU5cFP-uhME/U_KMm91HCrI/AAAAAAAABf4/16yanNCJGUw/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VU5cFP-uhME/U_KMm91HCrI/AAAAAAAABf4/16yanNCJGUw/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(14).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">16:09... 2nd fastest time in the history of the race</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So that brings us up to date. Tired, achy, and inspired! We are already itching for some Labor Day adventures.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-9212173484703100102014-07-21T19:50:00.001-07:002014-07-21T19:50:57.706-07:00Orange Mud HydraQuiver Vest Pack 2Let me start this gear review off by saying that my Quest for the Perfect Hydration System is over! At least for my needs, the <a href="http://www.orangemud.com/collections/running-packs/products/hydraquiver-vestpack-hydration-pack" target="_blank">Orange Mud HydraQuiver Vest Pack 2</a> is pretty much perfection. I started looking at Orange Mud about a year ago and even though I really liked the idea of having accessible bottles in the back, I wanted a hydration vest that had more capacity for gels and other necessities as well.<br /><br />While getting ready for a mountainous 50 miler I was trying to figure out how I was going to carry water bottles while keeping my hands free for my trekking poles. As a woman, storing bottles in the front leads to uncomfortable sloshing, so I looked at the Orange Mud website again about 2 weeks before the race and saw that they came out with the VP2. It features large pockets in the front for gear storage in addition to the rear pockets for bottles. Sold.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dUBSBOxv3Y/U81vmDmnCZI/AAAAAAAABYY/58g7e0bbsew/s1600/HydraQuiver_Vest_Pack_2_1024x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dUBSBOxv3Y/U81vmDmnCZI/AAAAAAAABYY/58g7e0bbsew/s1600/HydraQuiver_Vest_Pack_2_1024x1024.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8SYUTABNewA/U81vo4G7ucI/AAAAAAAABYg/lUSY_oxEG-w/s1600/Vest_Pack_Front_529f9b98-8b32-42a7-aff4-86af10cad871_1024x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8SYUTABNewA/U81vo4G7ucI/AAAAAAAABYg/lUSY_oxEG-w/s1600/Vest_Pack_Front_529f9b98-8b32-42a7-aff4-86af10cad871_1024x1024.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First things first, the bottles in the back are genius. I hate bladders/reservoirs. They are impossible to clean or sanitize, they are impossible to fill on the go, and it's impossible to have two separate beverages. I thought I would like bottles in the front, but when I tried that out I learned what it felt like to be a double D and I did not enjoy it. With the two bottles in the back, I was able to carry my drink of choice and some separate water without any sloshing or leaking. Filling them up at aid stations was a snap. The heat signature was a lot less than having a bladder up against your back. Most importantly I was easily able to grab my bottles and replace them in their holders WITHOUT STOPPING!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There is an additional bungee in the back which I tend to use for my shell, but it is configured to securely hold a third bottle. On the shoulders there are Velcro pockets that have a surprising capacity. In these pockets I store my pill bottle with electrolyte tabs, my headphones, my keys, and my headlamp. The only complaint I have is that the Velcro got stuck in my hair a lot. I think I would have preferred a snap or a magnet closure. The front pockets are smartly designed to hold in a lot of gels without them bouncing out - narrow at the top and deep at the bottom. I could easily fit as much as I wanted in these pockets.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I looked at pictures of the VP2 online, I was unsure what to think about the fabric. When I put the vest to work, I was pleasantly surprised. Not heavy or cumbersome at all, just breathable and meshy. &nbsp;I really didn't find myself sweating more than normal in the vest, and the first time I wore it it got up to 104 degrees!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My biggest concern about the vest before I received it was the fit. There is only one size, but it can be cinched up in the front and on the sides. When I put it on, I had to tighten the front buckle as far as it would go and then had to crank the side straps a good bit. This pulled the vest a little farther into my armpits than I would have liked, but otherwise I couldn't get it tight enough. I was worried that it would rub on my armpits and cause chafing, but for the 50 miler and during 30 miles the following weekend I had absolutely no problems with any rubbing. The fabric that lines the sides is very soft and so there was no scratching. I think the only improvement that could be made would be to come out with a women's specific version that is a little less broad through the shoulders and the front.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Overall, this vest outperforms any other vest I've worn. The VP2 has everything I want in a vest but when I wear it, I barely notice that I have it on. You won't catch me on a trail adventure without it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-960mcOrWQgs/U83P20iIfPI/AAAAAAAABYw/9V9R1qCI2fI/s1600/20140705_093807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-960mcOrWQgs/U83P20iIfPI/AAAAAAAABYw/9V9R1qCI2fI/s1600/20140705_093807.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-34704683830648233962014-07-08T18:10:00.001-07:002014-07-08T18:10:40.305-07:00Moab's Alpine to Slickrock 50 milerIf I am known for anything, I'm known for falling down a lot. I'm definitely not known for winning. So I found myself in unfamiliar territory this weekend when, having not fallen at all, I arrived at the second aid station and was told I was the first woman to come through and the 8th person overall.<br /><br />I'll back up a bit. If you have read my past posts, you would know that ever since puking my brains out at the Leadville marathon a few weeks ago my thoughts have unceasingly turned to how I could get out of running the MAS (Moab's Alpine to Slickrock) 50 mile race. It seemed that everything was coming together wrong for my first 50 miler. I felt sick for a week, then when I felt better I had a bad fall that resulted in some deep tissue bruising to my knee. Some other things happened that were just silly excuses. Oh AND WE BOUGHT A HOUSE. No stress in this life of mine.<br /><br />I had already paid my money and there was no getting it back, so I figured I would give it a shot. We left for Moab on Friday morning and arrived in the glorious heat of the day. I had forgotten what 100 degrees felt like since I had last experienced it never. I had planned to do some heat training but after reading one article that said that heat training isn't that beneficial I was totally convinced that I was an over-achiever for driving around in my car on hot days with the windows up and the AC off.<br /><br />We went to go pick up my packet and it was pretty chill. I think only about 45-50 people had signed up for the race so it took all of 2 minutes to get my stuff. We briefly chatted with the RD, Chris, and he told me that even when the race used to be in September there was a 50% dropout rate. He said that if I found myself wanting shade I was probably too dehydrated to finish and I should consider a DNF. I was very encouraged. After that I went for a two mile shakeout run and learned what it feels like to run face first into a hair dryer.<br /><br />The next morning I woke up at 3 am and at 4 am the shuttle bus drove us up to the Pack Creek picnic area. Looking back I think this was the worst part of the day for me. I had chugged a bunch of water before getting on the bus and then when we started bopping up the dirt roads I realized I had made a great mistake. I figured others had done the same thing and I contemplated organizing a takeover of the bus. Just when I had pretty much decided that the best course of action was to pee my pants, I saw a sign for the picnic area. People took painfully long to exit the bus and then a third of us made a quick beeline for the nearest bushes.<br /><br />It was still dark at the start and as we clicked on our headlamps Chris announced that there had been many recent bear sightings including a mom and her cubs. I think it was then that I decided I was going to finish this race. A daring adventure or nothing at all!<br /><br />I started off the race with a guy named Toby with a most excellent mustache who had shared the bus ride with me and happened to be staying with his wife and two collies in the condo next to us. My hope was to find a group and stick with them since I was worried about getting lost or meeting a bear. Toby started to speed up and I found myself in no man's land with no one in sight behind me or in front of me. I knew that we had 4,000 feet of climbing to do before the first aid station at mile 7.5. I was actually looking forward to it because I knew it would keep me from starting out too fast.<br /><br />As soon we got off the dirt road and started on some gorgeous single track I noticed that there were more piles of bear shit than there were course markings. And the course was definitely well marked! Bear paranoia, or Bearanoia, soon overtook me and I walked as fast as I could through this beautiful section of willowy brush and aspen trees. I turned around to snap this pic before marching on.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CXDyxmtb83c/U7yR2Q6COYI/AAAAAAAABXg/KiQ0Jc4TdYM/s1600/unnamed+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CXDyxmtb83c/U7yR2Q6COYI/AAAAAAAABXg/KiQ0Jc4TdYM/s1600/unnamed+(1).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is what my dreams are made of!</div><br />Soon after, two guys caught up to me and never have I been more relieved to see other people! One guy named Ben from Vail and one guy named Peter (I think?) from California. When we got to the first aid station, I asked the guys there how many women had come before me. The race start had been in the dark and so I wasn't able to tell if Anita Ortiz had actually started. Also I figured Britta Trepp and Meghan Hicks were definitely in front of me. The guys told me that I was in second and Britta was the only girl in front of me. They assured me I would catch her and I tried not to laugh because he was so serious and nice about it. I was 100% sure that I would not see her all day.<br /><br />We started down a dirt road and after a nice mile of descent I looked up and saw some flagging cutting across a meadow leading off into the woods. It was well marked but apparently a lot of people didn't notice this turn and went off course. Peter had gotten ahead of us and was waiting across the field because he had heard a weird noise in the woods. Fortunately the bear poop had waned and was replaced with massive piles that seemed to come from a cow with a terrible case of Giardia.<br /><br />The section between Aid 1 and Aid 2 was one of my favorites. Great rolling and runnable single track with lots of variety in trees and plants. It was weird to see so many cows and I had lost sight of my buddies. I came to this cattle fence that also seemed to be human proof. For the life of me I couldn't find any latch that indicated it was a gate. I seriously contemplated hopping it but the last time I jumped a barbed wire fence I ended up with scars in my hand. I pulled on a wire loop and a section of the fence fell towards me. It wasn't until I saw a blood stain on my shirt a few miles down the road that I realized I had gotten impaled. Don't worry, I put the fence back up.<br /><br />At about mile 15 it finally started to feel hot. I was running low on water but figured the aid station should be coming up soon. I started rationing my water and caught back up to one of my buddies. A few miles later, we rolled into Aid 2 I got a shock: I was in first place. I asked what happened to Britta and they didn't know so I figured she went off course and it was only a matter of time before she caught back up to me.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u54nc006P5M/U7ySanXvNaI/AAAAAAAABXo/yvIO4XE3oWk/s1600/20140705_093200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u54nc006P5M/U7ySanXvNaI/AAAAAAAABXo/yvIO4XE3oWk/s1600/20140705_093200.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mayla trotting behind me at Oowah Lake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(photo: Cory Linfield)</span></div><br />Memories start to blur from here. The climb up Geyser Pass was amazing. There were some horses just running around kicking up dust and lots of cows. It felt so remote. More meadows more climbs. Another aid station. It was weird being the first woman and having people take pictures of me. I kept referring to Britta as the first place woman even though she had been behind me for most of the race, but I've never even been in the top 10 before.<br /><br />The climb and descent of Burro Pass was by far my favorite part of the course. The views were so beautiful that I almost forgot that it was hot that I was going uphill. A group of guys zoomed by me and I asked if they were the lost boys. They told me they had gone 6 miles off course! They assured me that Britta was only a few minutes behind me.<br /><br />The descent off Burro was too good to be true... the kind of downhill that I love to fly (and usually fall) on. I had to remind myself that I was not even half way done and that I should reign it in. Soon I passed Bryon Powell taking a piss on the side of the trail and we ran together for a while. The sky decided to rip open and down came some rain and hail. Best part of the day. The thunder was directly overhead but the rain felt so good that I wasn't even concerned with the fact that my trekking poles were pretty much lightning rods.<br /><br />Shortly before arriving at the Warner Lake aid station at mile 25, Britta flew by me. I was kind of relieved to know where she was and she told me she estimated she had gone 8 miles off course. She left the aid station quickly and I figured that would be the last time I saw her for the day. I took my time because I had been so overjoyed by the rain that I had fallen behind on my nutrition and I knew that if I had a low point it would probably be around mile 30.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jST7nTTu7HQ/U7yS-X1Q_fI/AAAAAAAABXw/8bKNJmmo1SU/s1600/20140705_121951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jST7nTTu7HQ/U7yS-X1Q_fI/AAAAAAAABXw/8bKNJmmo1SU/s1600/20140705_121951.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Coming in to Warner Lake</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(photo: Cory Linfield)</span></div><br />I started the climb up Miners Pass and I felt like I was dragging myself up by my trekking poles. I was going embarrassingly slow. A few switchbacks from the top Bryon came by me with Britta tucked in behind him. Apparently she had gotten lost again. They waved at me near the top and I knew I was almost done with the major climbing of the day. When I finally started the descent I found myself throwing a temper tantrum. It was a painfully steep downhill and I was not looking forward to leaving the alpine environment and running in the heat of the day through the desert. Looking back I guess this was my low point.<br /><br />I finally got my legs to turn over and the single track turned into a loose, rocky 4x4 road that seemed to go on for eternity. I had caught back up to Ben who was discouraged because the aid station was farther down than we thought - it had been moved so that it was more crew accessible. I had been drinking a lot of water in preparation for the oven I was about to run into, but every two sips I would have to pull over to pee what seemed like a Nalgene's worth of water. At first I thought it just meant that I was hydrated, but then I realized that I needed more electrolytes so that my body could absorb the water.<br /><br />Finally I got to the aid station when my Garmin said mile 34. Cory and Mayla doused me with water and sent me on my way up a paved road. I actually felt pretty good through this next section and, even though it was hot, the pinyon pines and junipers were beautiful and little sections of slickrock were fun. It became increasingly hard to put calories down. I still had an appetite but every time I burped I threw up a little. I passed another guy and he would be the last runner I would see for the entire race.<br /><br />When I got to the next aid station Cory seemed really happy that I was still running so consistently. Justin, the other RD, was holding down the fort and all day he just seemed to really care about the runners. I don't know why it was, but I always left his aid stations feeling the most recharged. He told me Cory had some good news for me: apparently Britta was feeling tired and discouraged from all of her off course adventures and told them she was going to drop at the next aid station. I didn't want to get my hopes up. Justin told Cory to feel free to pace me and douse me with water along the final stretch.<br /><br />The plan was that Cory was going to drive the car down to finish line and start running up to meet me. I made pretty good time to the next, and final aid station, where Toby's wife, Bethany, doused me with water and told me that Britta had officially dropped out. I was both excited about the possibility of winning but disappointed that Britta had given up so close to the finish. Paying attention to course markings is important, you can't just put your head down and push ahead, but she is a much more talented runner than I am and I kind of felt like she deserved to take home first.<br /><br />I'll spare you the details of the last 7 miles. It was brutally hot along the dirt road... about 100 degrees. Bethany drove by in her car twice on her way to check on her husband and dumped some cold water on me. What a hero! Even though I was pretty sure no one was going to catch me, I wasn't sure who was still in the race and I kept picturing Meghan Hicks passing me and saying, "This is easy compared to the Marathon des Sables!"<br /><br />Cory ran the last 4 miles with me and I was so thankful. At that point I was starting to puke up watermelon and all I could do was put down small sips of water. I thought the race was only 48 miles, but when my Garmin said 48 Cory said there was still 1.5 to 2 miles left. I could feel my heart rate and respiration rate rising even though I wasn't going very fast. I kept up an unimpressive 11 minute per mile pace and finally there was the home stretch.<br /><br />The Ricks family took care of me at the finish and I got a pretty sweet trophy. I felt good enough to have a PBR! I don't know, maybe that means I wasn't running fast enough. Cory told me that he thought it was the best executed effort either he or I had ever done, which was the biggest compliment I could ever get. Winning was a nice bonus. I thought it would take me 14 hours, but I finished in 12 hours 46 minutes.<br /><br />I highly recommend this race to people who want an adventure. The event was extremely low key and well run. I wish there was a way to get more people to this event, but I think it takes a certain kind of person to want to do this race. I think it was a great first 50-miler for me because I knew it was going to be hard and it made me go into the race humble. It's been difficult to go back to daily life. It all seems so mundane. I just want to go camping in the La Sals!<br /><br />Gear List:<br /><a href="http://www.orangemud.com/collections/running-packs/products/hydraquiver-vestpack-hydration-pack" target="_blank">Orange Mud Hydraquiver Vest Pack 2</a>&nbsp;(review coming soon) with insulated Camelbak bottles<br />Black Diamond Z Poles<br /><a href="http://runprettyfar.com/collections/tanks/products/made-for-you-me" target="_blank">Run Pretty Far tri-blend tank</a><br />Salomon Light Short<br />Pearl Izumi Trail M2 with Injinji socks... NO BLISTERS!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SF6dFSpbNi0/U7yVY1Ls4oI/AAAAAAAABX8/2cdx6mHnXQg/s1600/20140705_093807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SF6dFSpbNi0/U7yVY1Ls4oI/AAAAAAAABX8/2cdx6mHnXQg/s1600/20140705_093807.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This gear system worked perfectly!</div><div><br /></div>Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-56417320419078796262014-06-30T16:57:00.002-07:002014-06-30T16:57:48.931-07:00Get back up againI've been trying to write this post for the last week but every time I start I think, "How can I possibly write this without sounding like a whiny baby?" But I give up, it's impossible. Sometimes it's OK to admit weakness.<br /><br />After jumping into the Leadville Marathon a week and a half ago and spilling all of my cookies across the course, at the hotel, and in the gutter in front of Sean and Laura's Honda Element, it's taken longer than normal to bounce back. Since the race I've had only one run that felt good and I took a good digger at the end of it. I bashed up my knee pretty bad and it still makes me wince sometimes.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PT77aFL730U/U7H46CtU1CI/AAAAAAAABWg/yZ4ahUpSSXc/s1600/blood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PT77aFL730U/U7H46CtU1CI/AAAAAAAABWg/yZ4ahUpSSXc/s1600/blood.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">oozy and bruisey</div><br />If I'm honest with myself, I think I just don't want to bounce back. I want to take a break and rest. I just want to pace Cory at his races, go for some adventure runs, hike some peaks, anything besides run a 50 mile race this weekend. The other night we listened to a panel of elite runners talking about the Leadville 100 and they said you have to decide before the race that you are going to finish it no matter what. All I can think of is how many excuses I have to not finish the 50 in Moab on Saturday.<br /><br />I really am excited for the adventure but I'm afraid and I feel like there are so many factors that are out of my control. In addition to how beat up my body is right now, I'm also supposed to get a visit from my "monthly friend" on race day... some might call her Flo the demon from hell. Enough said on that. I also have no control over the weather, which is supposed to be 100 degrees and partly sunny with no chance of any blessed rain. I just want a little break here! Running 50 miles is hard enough on it's own.<br /><br />To sum this all up I am terrified for the holiday weekend. I crafted all my training this year around running my first 50 miler. The time has come and I don't feel ready mentally or physically. My training has been solid, but there's too many things that I have no control over and MAN do I like to be in control.<br /><br />No matter what I am going to start the race. I'm going to run until I can't run anymore. And when I'm done I'll be really happy that at least I tried.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pv8swlA7AhQ/U7H5D29HhJI/AAAAAAAABWo/z9dYn42p0lQ/s1600/altra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pv8swlA7AhQ/U7H5D29HhJI/AAAAAAAABWo/z9dYn42p0lQ/s1600/altra.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Adventures at Staunton State Park</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z319fItBiNM/U7H5FtO3aqI/AAAAAAAABWw/sE50QVP-k3Q/s1600/cory+bee+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z319fItBiNM/U7H5FtO3aqI/AAAAAAAABWw/sE50QVP-k3Q/s1600/cory+bee+2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cory model</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J1HQz3_A-Sk/U7H5I_NP9YI/AAAAAAAABW4/DnWZgXYkyhM/s1600/cory+bee+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J1HQz3_A-Sk/U7H5I_NP9YI/AAAAAAAABW4/DnWZgXYkyhM/s1600/cory+bee+3.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouipIkWjhWM/U7H5Oob7GkI/AAAAAAAABXA/AEBGdZVm020/s1600/cory+bee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouipIkWjhWM/U7H5Oob7GkI/AAAAAAAABXA/AEBGdZVm020/s1600/cory+bee.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qss_Wkgh7vg/U7H5PjbxGgI/AAAAAAAABXI/W1K7nT5i_S0/s1600/slow+marmot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qss_Wkgh7vg/U7H5PjbxGgI/AAAAAAAABXI/W1K7nT5i_S0/s1600/slow+marmot.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Poor slow marmots</div><br /><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-852538742007405216.post-56621864815159888062014-06-15T10:45:00.000-07:002014-06-15T20:16:51.005-07:00The Leadville Marathon... seemed like a good idea at the timeIt's been a stressful past couple of weeks. I've been working overtime at the bank and when not working I've been running or house shopping with Cory. Last week we put in an offer on a house and got accepted! We are so excited to be making our home by Green Mountain, but this next month is going to be a crazy one as we close on the house and I run my first 50-miler and Cory runs his first 100-miler.<br /><br />So to make matters crazier I was feeling spontaneous and decided to sign up for the Leadville Marathon. Why would anyone want to run a tough marathon two weeks after a tough 50k? Well I was looking at my training plan and I was supposed to do a 25 mile training run anyway. It was my one Saturday off of work for the entire month of June. AND our friends, Chris and Colleen, offered up the extra bed in their hotel room. So why not? A few days before the race Siobhan gave me a heads up that there would be some course changes and by my reckoning it looked like it was going to add some vert. I'm not the best map reader so I tried not to think about it too much.<br /><br />I drove up after work on Friday night, got everything organized, and went to bed pretty early. It was a chilly morning but I think everyone was preparing for a hot day. As I looked at the crowd I saw a lot of people with sleeveless tops and no extra layers. I had my armwarmers on and a shell packed away in my vest. Maybe I was a little over-prepared, but the announcer warned us all that there were 30 mph winds on top of Mosquito Pass. I didn't really know what I was getting myself into. People told me the course was tough, but it hadn't really sunk in. My thought was that a course that was mostly jeep roads couldn't be that hard.<br /><br />Let me go back and explain something. I suck at adjusting to altitude. Every family vacation that we took to Colorado since I was a baby involved me having altitude sickness. My dad still reminisces about the one time when I was a toddler and I started puking my brains out on top of Mt. Princeton. He put me in his lap and scooted down a snowfield to get me to a lower elevation. I have no memories of this incident, but my dad is surely bad-ass enough to have done it. Then there was the time that Cory and I were backpacking in the Sangres and just after making camp at 10,500 feet I started the non-stop hurling. We got to hike 10 miles down the mountain in the middle of the night. Just two weeks ago at the Dirty 30 near the course high point I remember telling Liz that I would never run a Leadville race because I get sick over 10,000 feet.<br /><br />Why, two weeks later, did I end up at a race where the LOWEST elevation is above 10,000 feet? I am a stubborn person and I want my body to do what I tell it to do. As soon at the race got started my stomach was already sloshy and my legs felt heavy. We climbed almost 1,000 feet in the first two miles and I just tried to hold on to a pack of people. Then we had a 400 foot descent that I knew was going to feel like hell on the way back. After that we had a 1,400 foot climb from mile 3 to 5. At the top of that climb my stomach was angry and we hadn't even gotten to the hard stuff yet!<br /><br />By the time we reconnected with the Heavy Half course, about 8 miles into our course, I knew that if I didn't eat something soon I was going to bonk. Sloshy stomach be damned, my bottle of Vitargo wasn't going to be enough to get me through the entire race. I took a salt tablet and then around mile 10 I took my first gel. I started seeing the runners doing the half marathon come back to me. Chris was in 4th and Colleen was in 4th for women. I kept going and got a hug from Phil. Shortly after I saw the men's marathon leaders blazing down the mountain... Timmy Parr and Mike Aish duking it out.<br /><br />The farther up the mountain I went, the sicker I got. But the memory of DNFing at Mt. Werner was still too fresh in my mind to let it happen again. I kept expecting to see the women's leaders coming down, hoping it would be Siobhan, but there were so many people it was hard to tell who was doing the half and who was doing the full. Everyone looked miserable and it was so cold and windy! I had all my layers on and was still cold, but there were people who had nothing extra to wrap themselves in. I saw one guy with a plastic bag from the aid station wrapped around him.<br /><br />I finally saw Siobhan and then Laura some minutes back. They both looked strong and I tried to channel their energy, but instead I ending up throwing up everything in my stomach. After wiping the vomit off my sunglasses I decided I was going to finish this damn thing no matter what. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other and I finally started seeing people that I knew were only a few minutes in front of me so I knew I was near the top. When I got there, I snapped a pic and forced myself to start running. I was determined to enjoy the post-puke euphoria as long as I could.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tSI1dUD0lls/U53O4wta0DI/AAAAAAAABVk/Xte0ydWhOeM/s1600/Mosquito.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tSI1dUD0lls/U53O4wta0DI/AAAAAAAABVk/Xte0ydWhOeM/s1600/Mosquito.jpg" height="320" width="242" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From the top of Mosquito Pass at 13,200 feet</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After getting to the aid station a few miles below Mosquito I still hadn't eaten anything since mile 10. One of the guys at the aid station said I looked cold and wrapped me up in the best hug ever! I thought maybe it would be ok to just not leave that aid station. He said that since I kept throwing up I should probably just eat half a gel and dial back the pace and that's when I snapped out of it. Screw that! I ate the whole gel and took off down the hill.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the race was a blur and I spent most of it thinking of ways to get out of my 50-miler in 3 weeks. I passed a lot of people and just tried to focus on keeping my stomach settled. At mile 20 we had a 900 foot climb that seemed to go on forever. And then at mile 23 we had that 400 foot climb that seemed way longer than it actually was. I tried to run as much of the uphills as possible and I passed at least a dozen people in the last 6 miles. I really wanted to finish under 6 hours, but I ended up with 6:05. All things considered, I was just happy to finish. I was telling myself to run this like a training run, but I was totally trashed. I compared the elevation gain that my Garmin reported to some people's race profiles from last year on Strava and it looks like the course had an extra 400-600 feet of gain this year.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vtptOsuP_9c/U53VY4vaiAI/AAAAAAAABV0/V28LQeMn53U/s1600/finish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vtptOsuP_9c/U53VY4vaiAI/AAAAAAAABV0/V28LQeMn53U/s1600/finish.jpg" height="220" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finish line photo. Thanks Phil Synder.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I thought I would feel better after finishing but that's when the real adventure began. So many of my favorite people were hanging out after the race but I felt like shit. After getting back to the hotel room and showering I threw up some more. I tried to eat and drink but I couldn't keep anything down. Cory was driving up after work so we could hike as a group the next day but right as we gathered outside of Mt. High Pies for some dinner I threw up again on the side of the street. At this point I had nothing left and I knew that the only thing that would make me feel better would be to get down in elevation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I stubbornly tried to tell Cory that I would drive down by myself and that he should stay to hang out with people, but he would have none of that. Poor guy got to spend a total of 20 minutes in Leadville this weekend before having to drive his wife out of the mountains and force feed her Gatorade. After we got below Summit County I started feeling better. Today I am totally beat up and dehydrated. No run today. Still trying to think of ways to get out of the 50-miler...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />Allisa Linfieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10803555226045514682noreply@blogger.com0